30Kisses
by Niu Shiy-Ue
Summary: 30kisses challenge on lj. ByakuyaxRukia. Beware, some spoilers.
1. Howling at the Stars

Now that the ryoka are gone and things are beginning to calm down in Soul Society, Renji's friends have taken to nagging him again.

When he visits Hinamori he runs into Kira. "Now is the time," urges the blond. "While things are calm, before . . . something else happens." Renji ignores him; he feels Kira has never really understood, even with Hinamori lying at death's door, it just isn't the same.

"You were almost too late," says Ikkaku, running through basic exercises to test his healing body. "Last time you wanted to wait until she came back. And you both almost _died_. You always wait too long Renji." And that just brings up the last time he and the third seat of the Eleventh had talked about it. Ikkaku may have a point, but Renji isn't willing to concede it just yet.

Rangiku collars him when he's finally released from the Fourth Division and they go drinking. "This is the perfect time," she says, taking gulp of sake. "You've just been promoted and you have less to prove to that ice-prick of a brother of hers. Besides . . . " He almost turns away from the look in her eyes. "It's easier to apologize for the things you've said, than regret never saying them at all." And Renji knows that if there's one person who would know that, it would the vice-captain of the Tenth.

Yet he still can't say anything.

Every night, he goes up the Kuchiki house with a firm conviction, this time he'll talk to her and make her understand. Yet every night he ends up spending with the Kuchiki heirs. They sit and they talk and the two of them invite him to eat dinner with them. And while he watches them over the sumptuous meal, similar to what he and Rukia use to dream of when still in Rukongai, the words will turn to lead in his throat. All those words he wanted to say, to Rukia alone, get forcefully smothered under pleasant banalities. There's something there, half-glimpsed in the candlelight and through the steam from the tea. Something he thinks the two of them don't even realize.

They escort him down the path, they bid him goodnight. He watches them walk together. They're not quite comfortable with each other yet, but neither are they as far apart as they were. Ever since the ryoka, Rukia no longer trails behind her brother. She no longer looks back at her childhood friend. And Renji knows that once again he's lost.

Every evening he tells them both good-night. What Renji really wants is just to kiss Rukia good-bye.


	2. Sea of Sorrow

The sound of waves fills his ears.

He knows they're not really waves. Seireitai is almost completely landlocked and the nearest body of salt water is kilometers away in Rukongai. The small pools and gentle brooks of the Court of Pure Souls are far too tranquil to create that murmur in his ears.

Rukia is crying.

Undoubtedly she thinks no one is awake now, no one can see her weakness in the dark. Yet he can still hear her, each hitch of indrawn breath and stifled moan. Her room is all the way on the other side of the house from his study and yet to his advanced senses she might as well be in the same room.

Rukia is crying.

He knows why. Three days ago she came home, covered with the blood of her mentor. The day before last a distraught (but not nearly remorseful enough in Byakuya's opinion) Captain Ukitate came and explained how his inaction had caused the death of his best friend at the hands of his adopted sister. Yesterday had been the funeral of Lord Shiba Kaien and the accusations of his sister and younger brother.

It's been three nights since Rukia murdered her vice-captain and every night she has cried herself to sleep.

She doesn't sound like Hisana. Hisana was silent, when she cried it was the scent of salt that alerted him to her distress. When Hisana cried he would slip from his bed to hers and gently, silently embrace her. He would lift her face to see how her tears would shine in the moonlight, then carefully kiss each one away.

He does not know how to comfort Rukia. The strength of the mask she shows the world and the care which she has taken to hide her sorrow make him feel unwelcome. Should he get up and go to her room he is sure he would be turned away, either with angry words or simple silence. What was so easy with Hisana seems so inappropriate with her sister.

Rukia is crying and there's nothing Byakuya can do.


	3. Savior

He doesn't know what he's doing.

He can't see anything, except for Hisana's face. He can't hear anything except for the words of that ryoka, constantly repeating themselves in his mind. He can't feel the exhaustion or the wounds that cover his body. He doesn't know where he is or where he's going. All he can feel is a painful tightness in his chest. All he can do is keep walking and thinking and thinking and thinking.

But then a voice that couldn't be, speaking words it shouldn't cuts through the haze. He sees Abarai, beaten like the dog he knows him to be. The ryoka, defeated by something, someone impossible. He sees Rukia's wide, terrified eyes. And then he see s the flash of Shinso speeding towards her and there's no time to think anymore.

The pain comes before he realizes it, yet somehow it hurts less than the caged emotion that used to be there. And when he looks down he thinks, "She's safe." and there's no room for anything else but relief.

For the first time in fifty years, Byakuya draws a breath of fresh air. 


	4. What if?

It was complete and utter disorder. Conflicting requirements, of who wanted to be on the advance force, who needed to stay behind to run Seireitei, who had up-to-date knowledge of Ningenkai, who had bankai and most importantly of all, who could actually pass for a normal human. Hisagi and Kira were both out, overwhelmed both by their own duties and those of the absent Hinamori. And despite the overwhelming clamor, most of the Eleventh Division volunteers were turned away, too weak or too eccentric to be even considered. The same was true of the Twelfth Division, even though almost evey member, up to and including Captain Kurotsuchi expressed interest.

Ultimately, the advance party was reduced to a minimum, only those with both bankai and the ability to pass for high school students (to better coordinate with Kurosaki Ichigo) were allowed. Matsumoto and Abarai, Ikkaku and Yumichika, were the only ones deemed acceptable.

Three exceptions were made.

The first was Kuchiki Rukia. Although not an officer and lacking a bankai, her ability to work with Kurosaki and her recent foray to Ningenkai were deemed valuable enough to be placed in the party. In addition, Sode no Shirayuki was one of the stronger zanpakuto. Combined with her regenerated kidou abilities, she was capable of taking down a Gillian or even an Ajuukar(?). She was given strict orders to stand down in the event she encountered an Espada and sent off.

The second was Hitsugaya Toushiro. The Tenth Division Captain certainly had the power and knowledge . . . but he looked like a ten year old. A ten year old with stark white hair. Finally, it was decided that the advantages of having a Captain-level member outweighed the problems of trying to pass him off as an ordinary student. (Besides, half the officers agreed that everyone would be far too busy staring at Matsumoto to even care about Hitsugaya).

As for the third exception . . .

* * *

"Now that you've met the new students, I have more news for you. As you've heard, Shokan-sensei retired at the end of last term. We've had some difficulty finding a replacement for him however we were lucky to find a candidate at the last minute. Please give a warm welcome to your new sensei."

Ichigo frowned. He had liked Shokan-sensei, even if the man had been a bit old and cranky. He hoped the replacement wouldn't be nearly as bad. He saw a quick gesture from the corner of his eye and turned. Rukia was smiling and waving happily to him. He waved back disinterestedly, waiting for the new teacher to walk in.

Hold on a second. Rukia. Waving. Smiling. And not that fake, pretty, polite smile either. No this was her smug, I-know-something-that-you-don't smile. He would have pounced her right then and tried to shake some answers out of her skeletal frame but that at that moment, the new teacher entered the classroom.

He was tall. He was dark. And he was more than a little familiar. Ichigo pushed himself back so fast his chair hit the desk behind him. Oh, _hell_ no, they _couldn't_ have . . .

"Greetings class, I'm your new teacher, Kuchiki Byakuya. And before you ask, yes, Kuchiki Rukia is my younger sister. Do you have any questions? Oh and I won't answer any about my personal life."

Ichigo swore he could hear the collective squealing of the entire female population of the school.


	5. Transitions

If it wasn't for Renji he wouldn't have ever noticed.

It was less than a week after the ryoka had gone home. Both he and Renji had been declared fit to leave the 4th Division, but where not yet cleared for anything beyond desk duty. In a whim of generosity, he had opened his home to his fukutaicho, claiming it would be easier to deliver 6th Division's paperwork to one place rather than dividing it between the dormitories and the Kuchiki residence, and that the house servants would be far more quiet and efficient than the lower officers.

It was certainly _not _a belated apology for the past fifty years and two weeks.

Rukia had played buffer for them the first few days, but finally Ukitate had shown up, claiming her back to the 13th Division for some much needed training. She had left reluctantly, the expression on her face showing that she clearly expected to see a battlefield when she came back.

Fortunately, interaction had been kept to a minimum for most of the day. Byakuya had been out in the garden, stretching out his stiff muscles and Renji had stayed inside, working on the paperwork for the trip to Ningenkai that Yamato Genryuusai had hinted was coming. It was only in the evening, while they were waiting for Rukia to return that they had been left in the same room together.

"Woah, is this Rukia? I didn't think you'd have a picture of her right here in the main hall."

Byakuya drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. Renji had looked like the Rukongai trash he was that first day, gawping at every little thing and he had found it incredibly annoying, though expected. He reminded himself that this would be the first formal dinner in the house since Aizen's . . . departure, therefore the dining room was still all new to Renji, and readied himself to play host once again.

A quick glance over confirmed what Renji was looking at. It was a small portrait of Hisana, made around the same time that the photo on the shrine in his room had been. Same pose, but different media. "No, that is my late wife."

Brown eyes widened. "I'm amazed. I really thought . . . wow, they could be the same person."

Byakuya was about to agree casually, but Renji's own close examination forced him to scrutinize the picture again. The similarities were significant: the same butterfly-boned features, the same ink dark hair with that spiked below the chin and the wide luminous eyes that seemed to fill half of the thin face. Yet, Byakuya couldn't help but be struck by the differences instead. Hisana was just a shade paler, her hair a few centimeters longer. Small, delicate wrinkles marred her face, at the corner of her eyes, shadowing her mouth and one pencil-thin line across her forehead. She was smiling and looked calm, but the smile was sad and her calmness was more that of resignation than serenity. And her eyes . . .

He was saved from answering by Rukia's arrival. "Konbanwa, Niisama and Renji-kun. I hope I haven't kept you waiting."

"Not at all." A swift gesture signaled the arrival of their meal.

Later that evening, when Renji and Rukia had left to discuss the new possible assignment, he found himself staring at Hisana's portrait again. In his mind he compared her features to Rukia's and found them remarkably different. "How can Renji be so blind?" he whispered to himself.

It was the eyes that differed most he decided. Both had dark eyes, almost indigo in color. Hisana's had been even darker, shrouded by sadness till they were a melancholy purple in color. Rukia's on the other hand were lighter, brightened by some internal spark that Hisana had lacked. More liking staring up into a midnight sky full of stars.

_Really, they're not the same at all . . ._


	6. Custom

The first one was a small cube, wrapped in shiny purple, sitting inside his shoe locker. The second was on his desk, round in blue tissue paper, a third was on his chair tied with a white bow. Another was on the desk of his first class and in his second there was a pile.

They were all accompanied by strange looks. Envious or amused from his coworkers, insolent smirks from the ryoka. By the time lunch rolled around, he was fed up with the mystery and became determined to discover what all the ridiculous packages meant. To facilitate that, he delayed Rukia after class and took her to lunch.

She cooed at the pretty (flashy) red and white package he presented to her. "That's so-" she hesitated for a second. "Cute, Niisama. You have an admirer. Is this the only one you got?"

"No," he dumped out the other 23 packages from the messenger bag he carried. To her credit, she did try to stifle her laughter. "What does it mean?"

"Well," she smiled. "Today's a holiday. Valentine's Day."

"I have never heard of it."

"Yeah, it's fairly new. They didn't have it here in Japan when I started patrolling, but it's grown more popular in the last twenty years. Anyway it's a celebration of love."

"Love?" He eyed the pile of gaudy boxes and tried to connect them to the concept.

"Romance, perhaps, rather than love. These-" she picked up a box with an unusual V-shape, wrapped in pink. "-are gifts. People give them to the ones they love or admire or just want to, ah, well, you know."

"How typical" he said, giving her a muted incredulous look. "So how many have you received?"

She laughed and he felt grateful that she finally felt relaxed enough in his presence to do so. "None. How did Ichigo explain it to me? Oh, right, traditionally only girls or women give gifts today to their male friends or lovers. Men reciprocate the gifts a month from now, on White Day."

"I see," he made a mental note to purchase a gift for her before then. "So what are these things?"

"Well, you won't know until you open it, will you? Traditionally, their supposed to be chocolate."

Byakuya frowned. "Chocolate?" He vaguely remembered a hot, bitter drink from over a hundred years ago. He also remembered that he hadn't been fond of it at all.

"Yes," Rukia was rapidly tearing open a white, tissue-papered box, revealing small cubes of varying shades of brown that looked nothing like he remembered chocolate being. "It's a popular dessert. Here, try one."

He selected a round, dark, almost black mound. The bittersweet coating broke easily, surprising him with a too-sweet, syrupy red filling. He swallowed quickly, then tried to wash away the taste with the cheap Oolong tea that he had purchased with his lunch. "And this is a popular dessert?" The experience was even more unpleasant than his last encounter with the substance.

"Yes," She shot him a quick look. "I take it you didn't like it? You're eyes tightened a little," she added.

"Would you like some?" His sister had been eying the multitude of boxes since he had placed them on the table.

She beamed up at him. "Thank you, Niisama!"

Frankly, he couldn't stand chocolate. But at least now he knew what to get her for White Day.

* * *

"Niisama!"

He slowed his steps to let Rukia catch up with him. He hadn't seen her since lunch, so he now had accumulated another pile of boxes to give his sister.

She caught her breath then handed him another box, this one unwrapped, with some commercial label all over it. "I remembered our conversation from lunch, so I thought you might like to try these instead."

He gave her a speculative look, but stopped and opened the box. Inside were more blocks, but this time they were white, rather than tan or brown or black. He suppressed a sigh, but her hopeful expression made him try one anyway. This time the coating wasn't bitter, instead sweet and slightly creamy. The filling was softer and had a taste reminiscent of the warm, energy drink that Kurotsuchi was fond of. It was much more pleasant.

She grinned up at him. "That's white chocolate. I thought you'd like it more than the regular kind."

He let a slight smile appear on his face. "Thank you Rukia. It was a very nice gift."

FIN


	7. Countdown

When people move from Rukongai to Seireitai, they often leave the memory of their troubles behind. It's encouraged, actually. The Academy's 60/40 in Rukongai's favor and the instructors can't be everywhere. If the class distinction got out of hand . . . well, frankly they can't afford to be patrolling for hollows and policing the streets of Seireitai for vigilantes at the same time. So the basic premise is once you're in the Academy, you've proved you have what it takes and that makes you the same as any other student. Sure, there are still snobs (Byakuya and Kenpachi) and geniuses (Byakuya, again, and Toushiro), but prejudice and talent comes from both sides of the tracks and otherwise most students successfully integrate with their peers.

Rukongai students, in general, have a slightly more difficult time accepting this, but instructors usually go out of their way to bring them into the fold. Ukitate Jyuushiro and Unohana Retsu are the best examples of this. When they were still instructors they were famous for (s)mothering their students. Ukitate never went anywhere without his pockets filled with candy and Unohana often knew her students were coming down with colds before they did. They almost seemed to believe there was a void in their students, that could only be filled by stuffing them with wholesome food (well, Ukitate was a bigger believer in sugar), a chill that even the stout walls and good clothes could only stop with handknit scarves and blankets, a vulnerability that needed all the clean water and hygiene that Seireitai could provide.

(And if you think this made them soft, you've never seen Unohana during a room inspection or Ukitate after you forgot to do your homework. They didn't become Captains because they were kind.)

And it was easy to forget, being cold, thirsty or hungry. Seireitai may not concern itself with what's outside its walls (aside from Hollows), but it binds the loyalty of its Shinigami with chains of gratitude. Rukongai-born shinigami may visit their old haunts, may chase down criminals or give alms to beggars or improve their old neighborhoods in any way, but few of them ever consider living there again. By far, the most successful project ever attempted by Seireitai is the brainwashing of its adopted children.

But no matter how thick the wall or guarded the gate, sometimes a bit of Rukongai manages to sneak in and rear its head, reminding them that they are still connected. And one of these vipers not only slipped past the wall, but into the house of the most prominent family of the Court of Pure Souls.

* * *

"Please eat, Oneesama. It'll make you feel better." Rukia bowed her head to the floor, not caring that she was messing up her hair and Academy uniform.

Hisana looked over the tray that had been placed in front of her. On it were the most exquisite delicacies, her favorite foods and even dishes that Rukia must have made herself. Rice and umeboshi with tea poured over them. Fresh watermelon. Rice pudding. Even a thin soup made from dandelions; Rukia must have ventured out into Rukongai for those. Everything designed to tempt her appetite (and strengthen her failing body).

Too bad she'd never had one. "Hisana is not very hungry, Imouto-chan."

"Just a bite. The doctor said it will help you fight the illness." The doctor had said nothing of the sort, but it was one of the things they had done in Rukongai. Given the sick the cleanest water, the warmest spot, the best food. Even if the individual couldn't use spiritual energy, they had forced them. And my friends had still died, a little voice inside Rukia's head whispered, but she shook it away. It would work this time. Here in Seireitai the water was clearer than the air in the 79th district. The food was better. They lived in a house now. Seireitai had medicine. There was no way her sister could die!

"Hisana is very sorry, Rukia-chan. Perhaps you could pour some tea instead?"

"Sure!" Even if it wasn't her sister's preference, Rukia made it in the modern, European style, laded with cream and sugar. If she couldn't get Hisana to eat, she'd make sure the older woman got some nutrition! Maybe Rukia could steal one of the IVs from the 4th Division and feed her intravenously!

"Thank you, Imouto-chan," Hisana said, trying to hide a grimace at the way her sister had polluted the tea. Fortunately, she was saved by the arrival of the master of the house. "Rukia-chan, Byakuya-sama is home. Would you please greet him on behalf of Hisana?"

The younger girl nodded and dashed out of the room.

* * *

"Niisan!" Byakuya barely had time to close the door before Rukia glomped him. She let go a second later, dropping to the ground to bow to him when she remembered. "I'm sorry-"

He caught her before she hit the floor. "It's alright." Rukia was the one person he allowed the liberty to act as she wished; Hisana never dared act outside her role. "How is my wife?"

Tears filled Rukia's indigo eyes and she let them run freely down her face. "According to the servants, she hasn't gotten up at all today. And I couldn't get her to eat anything, only some tea. Unohana-" a deep shuddering breath before she continued. "Unohana-taichou says she won't see the flowers bloom again."

"I see." To others, Byakuya might have seemed cold and unfeeling, but after three years, Rukia had learned to read him. Despair weighed just as heavily upon him as it did her, maybe even more so. "I'll see her now."

"Please, try and make her eat, Niisan."

* * *

"Welcome home, my Lord."

"Greetings," he replied. Noticing the still full teacup in her hand, he poured himself one. He filled his with cream and sugar as well; while he preferred it plain, Rukia thought it might encourage Hisana if she saw them doing the same. "Is something wrong with the food?"

"No! No," she whispered, taking a sip when she noticed him watching her. "Hisana was just feeling guilty, since she can't finish this much food."

"Don't worry about it." Servants would take whatever remained home to their districts to distribute. "Perhaps you would like to try something different." He picked up a bowl of steaming soup. "I remember this. Rukia said it was good for warming people up."

"Chicken noodle soup," she smiled. "One of Rukia-chan's new, Occidental dishes."

He hmmed, then brought the spoon up to her lips.

* * *

"Well?"

"I got her to eat half a bowl of the 'chicken soup' before she claimed exhaustion and went to sleep. We need to add that to the list of dishes that she actually has eaten."

"I'll tell the cook that." They entered the dining room and sat down. Byakuya looked down at the simple repast. It was just rice, steamed vegetables and fish. Filling, but not rich, adequate, but nothing like the feast that had been presented to Hisana.

"Itadakimasu," whispered Rukia. She looked at him. He looked at her. He took a bite of rice. Even though the food looked, smelled and tasted wonderful, he could barely choke it past the knot in his throat. Turning to look at Rukia, he guessed from the sick expression on her face that she felt the same way.

They could eat this food; feel it satisfy the hunger rumbling in their bodies. But the knowledge that such a simple thing could sustain them while even their most valiant efforts couldn't save Hisana made it all turn to ash in their mouths.


	8. Beginning

Hisana knew she was dying.

Actually she had known she was dying for the past year, six months longer than Rukia and Byakuya. However something inside her told her today was the day, and she could feel her hours trickling into minutes. She reached out to her sister and to her husband, determined to divide her remaining time equally.

Rukia knelt at the foot of the bed, looking directly at her, but out of reach. Byakuya came to her side, grasping one delicate hand in his larger one. When Hisana started coughing, he moved to the side to support her, a steady, warm presence behind her back.

There was so much she wanted to say and such limited time to do so! She had to pick her words carefully, fill them to the brim with everything she felt. Hisana turned to Rukia first. "Imouto-chan, forgive me for abandoning you." Forgive me for abandoning you then and now. Forgive me for not being as strong as you are.

Rukia shook her head. "Oneesama . . . " for a second Hisana feared that she was going to spout some trite line about saving that for later, for after she recovered. Fortunately, she had underestimated her sister. "I don't regret anything that has happened to me."

Hisana wondered if Rukia lied to spare her feelings, but lately she had lost the ability to discern her sister's true thoughts. For all she knew, maybe Rukia was telling the truth. Either way, it was Byakuya who needed her words now. "My lord," she whispered, looking up at him. "I'm sorry I was unable to love you as I should." Sorry for being merely grateful. Sorry for not giving you an heir.

"These years", his voice rumbled through her bones. "Have been like a dream." A good dream, she wanted to ask, but held her tongue. She did not want to know the answer.

Minutes became seconds and she knew there was only one thing left to be said. Yet it was hard, so hard to choose the right words. There were so many things she could say, but she was selfish, so selfish. She had known from the start she wasn't what they deserved. Byakuya needed a wife, someone who both was equal to him and who loved him, not a burden who only stayed because he had rescued her. Rukia should have had a sister who was as strong as she was, who would have taken care of her, not left her for dead in Inuzuri. Yet he was Hisana's husband, she was Hisana's sister and Hisana didn't want to let them go. Least of all to each other.

Oh, she knew. Whispered words from servants that were just a touch too loud to ignore, pitying and contemptuous gazes from shinigami. Sometimes it seemed that everyone but Byakuya and Rukia knew that the Kuchikis would have been better off if Hisana had never existed. Once she was dead it would only be a matter of time.

She knew what the wrong words were. She could say, "I love you." or "I give you my blessing." In so many ways, she could have put up a wall in between them, ensured they would never look at each other that way, would never forget her.

Finally, as the room went dim around her, she decided. "Live," she whispered._ For me. _was added silently.

She was only glad she wouldn't live to see them kiss.


	9. Ten Stepping Stones

1. Byakuya can't recall how he first met Rukia; time has made the gap between Hisana's death and Rukia's life seamless.

2. Rukia never lets Byakuya see her cry.

3. Although the Kuchikis do not celebrate birthdays, every year Byakuya receives a thousand paper bellflowers on his.

4. Sometimes Byakuya will refer to an event or conversation that will confuse Rukia, only later will he realize that the incident in question happened with Hisana, not Rukia.

5. Their shared skill in kidou is completely coincidental.

6. When they kiss, Rukia believes Byakuya tastes of dark chocolate; Byakuya on the other hand knows that Rukia tastes of strawberries.

7. Senbonzakura has a soft spot for Rukia, contrariwise, Sode no Shirayuki loathes the Kuchiki heir.

8. Due to his kenseikan, Byakuya actually needs twice as much time as Rukia does in the morning to get ready.

9. The Kuchiki siblings have an easy time avoiding each other; Byakuya likes moonlit walks while Rukia is always up at the crack of dawn.

10. Most shinigami don't realize that the Kuchikis are adopted siblings.


	10. Super Nursemaid Kuchiki Byakuyasama

Byakuya stared at the CVS shelves in complete bewilderment.

Just a few hours ago the attack they had feared had come. A party of Espada had invaded Karakura, battering their warriors and kidnapping (or had she gone willingly?) Orihime. Now the Shinigami and their human allies were down, divided between the Urahara Shouten and the ryoka's home to recuperate, Orihime was gone and no one could find that last ryoka, the Quincy.

And where had Byakuya been when all of this occurred?

Back in Seireitai, giving the weekly report to Yamamoto-taichou. He only discovered what had happened when he came back and found the Shouten in an uproar. It had been bad enough to know he had been MIA when the rest of the team had needed him; it was worse knowing there was still nothing he could do now.

And he still hadn't told the rest of them about the order to retreat.

So here he was, hale and whole, with an announcement that would devastate the rest of them sitting like a stone in his throat, and with nothing to do. He couldn't even help the others heal; medical kidou had never been his forte. The Head of one the Four Noble Houses of Seireitai had been reduced to a messenger boy, shuttling back and forth between the Shouten and the Kurosaki residence (and hadn't he had a surprise when he had met 'Kurosaki' Isshin). Finally, Urahara had sent him out to get more medical supplies; the number and severity of the injuries taxing even his resources. Byakuya knew it was just make-work to keep him out of the way, but he still accepted the errand. Anything to keep his mind off his failure.

Buying the supplies should have been simple, just bandages, disinfectant and painkillers. Should have been. Unfortunately, Byakuya hadn't been to Ningenkai in over fifty years and what would have been an easy task then was now monstrously complex. Who really needed all these choices?

"Can I help you, sir?" He turned to stare at the tiny, red-vested woman who had just accosted him.

Byakuya is the Head of the Kuchikis. The highest Noble House of Seireitai. He's faced down Hollows, Arrancar, Gillians and the massive stacks of paperwork associated with being a Captain. He's stared down traitors without batting an eye. He's faced the death of those closest to him with only the slightest flinch. Kuchiki Byakuya does not ask for help.

He stared back at the shelves. They had grown bigger, brighter and seemed to have developed dripping teeth while his attention was diverted.

"Some help would be appreciated." He gratefully handed over the list.

Urahara stared as Byakuya dropped the last bag at the other man's feet. "I hope Yamamoto-taichou is paying for this."

"As these were all necessary for the continued health of the squadron, I am sure he will be happy to do so. And if not, the Kuchiki House will reimburse you the cost as repayment for healing one of its members."

"Uh-huh." Urahara started digging through the half-dozen bags. "Bandages, of multiple sizes, good. Alcohol swabs and peroxide, good. Aspirin, acetaminophen, ibuprofen and naproxene, overkill but okay." He drew out a bottle. "Nyquil?"

"The vendor stated that it would be an aid for sleep." Urahara looked like he was about to say something, but just shook his head instead. Gathering up the bandages and peroxide, he set off towards Hitsugaya-taichou's room.

Meanwhile, Byakuya began digging through the bags again. The salesperson had offered some other remedies as well. Not just painkillers, but vitamins that would help speed healing. Byakuya made up trays, meticulously distributing the small pills. Small glasses of water, milk and orange juice. Some rice and broth. A small saucer to hold the pills: echinacea and zinc for the 'immyoon' system (whatever that was). Iron for muscles. Extra gingko for Ikkaku and Renji. Folic acid for Rangiku. When he was done, he set off to bring his version of medicine to the invalids.

"Ah, is this really necessary, Niisama?"

He frowned. He should have guessed that Rukia would be difficult, she never had liked being confined in the Fourth Division. She must feel that this is exactly the same. "Yes, it is. Having you back at full capacity as quickly as possible is important for the approaching conflict."

She tried her watery-eyed, trembling-lower-lip Face #25, but it wasn't going to work this time. This was for her own good. "Take the pills Rukia."

"Fine." She picked up a solid green one. "What's this one for?"

"Iron. It helps build your muscles."

She made a face but swallowed it. "These taste horrible. And this one?" She pointed to a clear gelcap.

"Vitamin E, for . . . " And so it went.

Until the last pill. "Niisama, I've had enough. These are only good for the gigai, I don't need any more pills."

"This one is . . . " A slight pause to remember what that woman had said. "Wada Calcium CD3. For growing bones."

"No, no, absolutely not, no! Niisama, I'm over eighty years old!"

"Also for the elderly."

"And need I remind you, you're almost 200?" She backed away.

"Fine then, if you won't take it, I'll just have to force you." He popped the pill in his mouth, then cornered her as she scrambled off the futon. Pressing his lips to hers, he pinched her nose shut until he felt her swallow. Backing off, he then passed her the small glass of water.

"You're right, these really do taste horrible."


	11. Two Sisters

Hisana and Rukia were sitting in the garden. It was rare that they had a chance to do this, for Hisana's obligations as Lady Kuchiki and Rukia's duties as a Shinigami left them little opportunity to spend time together. But they cherished these brief moments and tried to make the most of them.

_Tell me a story, sister._

Once upon a time there were two sisters. The elder was named Rose Red and the younger was named Snow White. The two sisters lived in a deep forest and were inseparable. One day, while walking along the forest they came to a path along a stream. The path split in two, one continued along the stream, the other crossed a rickety old bridge above it.

"Stay here," Rose Red told Snow White. "I will bring back flowers from the meadow across the stream."

So Snow White sat down beside the stream and Rose Red crossed. But when Rose Red saw how beautiful the flowers were, she did not want to return. Instead, she kept walking, deeper and deeper into the meadow. When she got to the end of the meadow, she saw an enormous palace. The palace belonged to a handsome prince who saw her from the window and asked her to come live with him. And she did.

Snow White was left in the woods. The sun went down and it got darker and colder. Finally unable to wait for her sister any longer, she took the path that continued beside the stream. While walking along the path she met a wolf.

The wolf's leg was caught in a hunter's trap. "May I help you?" asked Snow White.

"If you come near me," said the wolf. "I will bite you."

So Snow White scooped up water with her hands and gave it to the wolf. While the wolf drank, she carefully opened the trap and set it free. "Thank you," said the wolf. "Since you have been so kind, I will guard you from the dangers of the forest."

"Your welcome."

"Why are you walking alone in the woods?" asked the wolf.

"I'm looking for my sister." replied Snow White. "She left me by a stream to pick flowers and she hasn't returned."

"I will help you look for your sister."

Snow White and the wolf continued down the path. They met many people and many dangers. Finally, the wolf and Snow White came to another bridge across the stream. "Perhaps your sister is there." said the wolf.

"Perhaps." The bridge was guarded by a mighty wizard, because it lead to an enormous palace. But the wizard was wise and kind in addition to being powerful and saw that the two had been through many hardships and were worthy of entering. So he brought them to the owner of the castle, who happened to be the very same prince that the elder sister had met.

When the younger sister made it to the castle, the older sister greeted her happily. The prince also greeted her and asked her to tell them about her journey. When she did, the prince was so impressed, he not only asked that Snow White and the wolf live with them, he asked for Snow White's hand in marriage.

This made Rose Red furious. Over the past year the older sister had fallen in love with the prince and wanted him to marry her. So on the day of the wedding she poured poison into the bride's glass. But the wizard suspected her for she had entered without his approval and he switched the glasses between the two sisters. So Rose Red drank the poison and died.

_And they all lived happily ever after._

Hisana finished the story, then immediately started coughing. "Oneesama?"

"I'm alright, Rukia." Even though she'd known for the past year that she wasn't. "I just need a drink of water." But she kept coughing and coughing, unable to stand up or drink the water that Rukia brought her.

"Oneesama? Oneesama!" Rukia's voice was the last thing she heard before darkness closed in on her.

_I'm sorry sister. I can no longer protect you._


	12. Draft

Dear Niisama,

_It feels strange to write to after we've spent so many years not speaking to each other. It's even stranger that I decided to write this letter to you, even before writing my report to Ukitate-taichou._

This first week in Karakura has been marked with incredibly bad weather. It never rained a week straight while I was patrolling here.

_I think you would have liked it here._

Accomodations are scattered. Hitsugaya-taichou and Rangiku-chan are staying with Orihime. Renji's staying at the Uruhara Shouten. Madarame and Yumichika are with one of Ichigo's friends, Keigo, I think. I'm still staying with the Kurosakis, but Kurosaki-sensei was kind enough to give me my own room this time.

_Am I weak because I don't feel safe now that I can no longer feel your reiatsu when I wake up at night?_

Rangiku-chan dragged us to the Matsuri festival. It's very similar to the ones we had in Rukongai. Lots of lights and sake and Renji nearly got arrested. Orihime showed us how to do kareoke; Rangiku-chan was a very enthusiastic participant. I think you'd like kareoke, maybe we could try it next year.

_It's nothing like what we have at home. I know you don't like crowds and drinking, but please give it a chance. I think you'll find that you enjoy having time to relax._

Hitsugaya-taichou kept complaining about everyone acting immature, but even he appreciated the beauty of the sakura trees at night. He said it's something he would like to show Momo when she gets out of the 4th Division.

_Did you and Neesama ever have a chance to do the same?_

That reminds me, there's this recipe I want to try when I get back. Cherry pie! It's a Western dish but I think you'll enjoy it. I got the recipe from Ichigo's other friend, Mizuiro.

_I'm glad we're no longer avoiding each other at mealtimes. It's nice to be able to have real conversations now, instead of short comments as we pass each other in the hall._

Speaking of Ichigo's friends, they're helping me on my patrol. Indirectly, of course. Since I can't shunpo in the gigai, I get Keigo to give me a ride on his motor-cycle and now I can patrol twice the area in the same amount of time. He keeps telling me to put on a 'helmit' but I love the feel of the wind in my hair. It's almost like flying!

_I'd like to see you race against one of these motor-cycles one day. You would definitely win, but I think I may prefer the motor-cycles. Or the tentouken, when I am strong enough to use one._

So far, there haven't been any Arrancars, but there are still a lot of unusual energies here in Karakura. Strangely, a lot of them appear to be human, rather than ghosts. This might be due to the concentration of reiatsu here, but we still need to check it out.

_There are so many things I want to tell you. But now, I'll wait to tell you in person, rather than hiding behind this letter._

_I miss you_

Sincerely,

Rukia

_XOXO-Orihime says these mean 'hugs and kisses'._

AN: Italics are crossed out sections of the letter. See my fic journal for a better, clearer version of this.


	13. One Night Stand

Byakuya wakes when Rukia slips out from under his arm, off the bed. "Rukia?" He watches the moonlight play over her back as she begins to slide on her night robe.

She tenses at his voice, but does not stop. Her movements become less furtive, but more jerky. The stiffness in her muscles makes him wonder. "Rukia, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No, that's not it!" She turns back to look at him, surprise clear in her face. "It's just . . . " She shifts away again, plunging her eyes into shadow. "That was the first time for you, wasn't it?"

His eyes widen. He doesn't know how she can tell; if anything the fact he'd been married before should have made her assume otherwise. "How did you know?"

She smiles sadly at him. "I just do." Her movements become faster as she ties the robe shut and begins to look for her tabi. Byakuya thinks back to the past few hours.

_Tell me what hurts, what feels good. Touch me here. No, not like that, like this._

"But it wasn't the first time for you."

She finds one sock. "No, it wasn't," she agrees, smiling up at him.

"Who was it?"

Rukia finishes dressing, then sits down back down on the bed again. She lifts one hand, almost touching his cheek before hesitating. He leans forward into her palm. "It was a long time ago, back in the Academy. Before I even met you."

"Do I know whom?"

No answer.

"Was it Renji?"

Her silence was as condemning as a 'Yes.' He wonders why she doesn't lie, then quashes the hope that maybe she doesn't want to lie to him.

She stands up and turns to go. Byakuya sits up and catches her hand, pulling her back down to the bed. He leans forward but she stops him, placing her hand in front of his face. "This won't happen again," she tells him firmly. Then she gently pulls away and leaves the room.

Alone, the bed is far too cold.


	14. The Haunting

He first notices on their wedding night.

"I'll . . . distract Baker. Renji . . . three of you steal water . . . " Hisana tosses her head back, a sheen of sweat over her features.

Is she dreaming of the past? The names are unfamiliar, but there were so many things about his bride that he doesn't know.

It doesn't matter. They have forever to share these things.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

Hisana looks up, then blushes prettily. "I do?"

He nods. "Last night, I believe you were talking about your past. You and . . . Renji, I think the name was, were planning to rob a storekeeper of his water." He tilts his head to look her in the eye. "Who's Renji?"

But she simply looks confused. "Renji? I don't know anyone by that name."

Byakuya grows used to his wife's nocturnal habits, listening as she describes a world he has never known. These figments begin to take a life of their own, more vivid than the slow, contemplative pace dictated by the Kuchiki elders. Sometimes, he wonders if these dreams are a subconscious plea for freedom on Hisana's part, an escape from the stiff, formal home he has caged her in. Yet, she seems so happy during the day, he feels too ashamed to ever bring up his doubts.

Time passes. Something is not right with Hisana; she is prone to debilitating headaches and migraines. _Hysteria_ hiss the elders, always ready to find fault with his proletariat wife. _Exhaustion_ dismisses Captain Unohana, telling him to make sure she isn't trying to hard. He bows silently to both, then returns to his smiling wife, never letting her know of the controversy that surrounds her.

Still, they are happy. They ignore the insolent rumors that follow their marriage. Instead, they share moonlit walks, meals and beds, shielded by their love. And when Hisana, with pride, announces that she is carrying the next Kuchiki heir, Byakuya thinks that life could not be more perfect.

The fever isn't going down.

He mops her brow with a new cloth, hoping to provide her with some relief. A servant has already been sent for Captain Unohana; he can only hope she will last till then. What had started as a simple cold has blossomed into a ravaging infection that now threatens the life of both his wife and his unborn child.

She begins to murmur in her delirium. "Hisana?" he bends closer to hear her words.

Her eyes snap open and her voice is suddenly quite strong. "We're from Inuzuri. We're here to become Shinigami."

"What?"

"His name's Renji. I'm Rukia." She suddenly curls around her stomach and screams. Only after he grabs her shoulders does he notice the blood between her legs.

"I'm sorry," says his wife.

"It's not your fault," he tells her.

"I'm sorry," says Captain Unohana, washing her blood-caked hands. "But it would be dangerous for her to conceive again."

"I understand," he replies and arranges for his possessions to be moved out from her room.

Life goes on and as much as he wants to stay, his duty as 3rd Seat to the 6th Division calls him away from her. It is because of that duty that he meets _Her_.

He's doing a demonstration on kidou for a class at the Academy. _She_ is seated near the back with some ruffians, and is loud, rude and more vital than his wife even on her best days. When he calls _Her_ up to partner him in the demonstration, _Her_ skills are impressive. After the demonstration, he spends the rest of the day drifting, feeling as though he has seen a ghost.

Years later, he will be mildly offended to learn that _She_ doesn't even remember this first encounter.

"If you would step this way, sempai." He leads Captain Ukitate to the garden. Byakuya's fairly certain that the other has come with the documents for his promotion and he would like his wife to hear it with him. He has already ascertained her location from the servants, and the inner courtyard garden of the Kuchikis, with it's overhanging sakura, would be the perfect place to receive the good news.

She is standing in the middle of the courtyard, with her back to them. As they watch she begins to move, raising her arms and waving her hands in patterns that become increasingly, frighteningly familiar as Byakuya continues to watch. Then she turns and smiles at them.

That is not Hisana's smile.

"Byakuya-kun, isn't that-"

"Ukitate-sempai, would you please fetch Captain Unohana."

"It's simply exhaustion from the recent tragedy. She needs another week of bed rest. And I mean it this time; don't let her out of bed." Captain Unohana is serene as ever, but Byakuya can't help wonder if she's a little annoyed at being constantly called to the Kuchiki residence.

"So she's not . . . "

"She's not mad, Byakuya-san. You might want to consider taking a vacation, however. Being cooped up in this house might not be the best thing for her. I believe it might be setting her nerves on edge."

"Thank you for your time, Captain Unohana."

"Your welcome."

Behind his back, _Hypochondria_ becomes the new catch word among the servants.

"Do you have any relatives?"

She stares up from the bed. "Here? Or do you mean-"

"Here."

She hesitates and tries to hide it by taking a sip of ginger tea. "Yes . . . and no."

His eyes widen in surprise. "It's either one or the other."

"It's complicated," she grimaces. "I came-in Rukon-I had a relative. My younger sister."

"What was her name? What happened to her?"

For the first time, she doesn't let her eyes meet his. "Her name was Rukia. She died in Rukongai."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring you pain."

"It's my own fault." Then softer. "I abandoned her."

The next day he finds her in the garden again, practicing kenjutsu with a stick.

She never does recover. As time went on she loses more and more of herself, either slipping into a daze or acting out a life that never was hers. Byakuya finds it difficult to remember what she had been like when he had married her. A stranger is living in his house and he cannot even mourn the loss.

"Hisana," he says, holding her hand gently. "There's something I've been keeping from you."

"What is it?" she gasps.

"Your sister . . . she's alive. She's here in Seireitai, training to be a Shinigami."

A moment of stunned silence passes, and for an instant he thinks she might rise from the bed and strike him down in fury. Then the life faded\s from her eyes again.

"Byakuya-sama . . . " Her fingers tighten for a moment, then release. "Please find my sister."

The next day he adopts Rukia into the Kuchiki family.


	15. Tokyo Babylon

Rukia had checked the directions thrice because she hadn't believed it. The Urahara Shouten hadn't looked like a place that catered to nobility. The street bordered a red light district, and the facade had been humble and dingy. 

It had been larger inside than out. Light and airy, the shop had proved itself to be exactly what she was expecting. The shopkeeper, on the other hand, exactly matched the outside, with 5:00'clock stubble, suspiciously shaded eyes, and a far too cheerful demeanor. He looked like the type of person you bought cocaine from, only to find out later that you got gypped with flour instead.

Of course, that might have been prejudice on her part. It's hard to work up a positive feeling when someone's waving that big a price tag in front of a potential customer's face.

SWISH! "We also underwrite loans."

"With a price like that, I'm not surprised. Do your investments often pay off?"

"You'd be surprised how many do." He glanced over at her sister. "Are you sure you should be letting her go off like that?"

"I did say it would be her choice." SWISH! She put her hand up, blocking whatever Urahara had just written on that sheet of paper. "A loan will be unnecessary; I'm authorized to draw out a check for the purchase."

"Of course," he eyed her from beneath his ridiculous, striped hat. "I imagine that the Head of the Kuchikis would have full control over finances."

"Heir only, please." The title left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was worse because it was true. Hisana's lack of a zanpakuto and kidou had weakened the position of the already unpopular Head. When she had fallen ill, the 13th Head had been isolated, leaving her sister and heir the de facto leader of the family.

Urahara opened his mouth, but before he could say something, a loud crash from the other room distracted the two of them. 

* * *

"I want the one with dark eyes." said Hisana.

"What?" asked Rukia, replacing the wet towel on her sister's head.

"The one with dark eyes."

Rukia looked up at the servant who had accompanied Hisana. He shrugged his shoulders. "None of the dolls opened their eyes while we were there."

"Perhaps if you could be a little more specific," prompted the shopkeeper, fluttering his fan.

"The boy with dark blue eyes."

"I see," he darts out, then comes back in. The doll he carries has shorter, straight black hair and is dressed in traditional black haori and hakama. When he sets him down, Rukia notices that the doll is taller than her. And it does indeed, have cobalt eyes, that open and look right at her. "You must have seen it in a dream." 

* * *

"I have a problem."

"Oh?"

"The doll refuses to respond to my sister. It won't smile at her, it won't drink the milk she offers it. It's sleeping more and more."

"Ah well, you have to remember that plant dolls are finicky creatures. You really must woo them, and woo them sincerely. Otherwise the doll won't thrive at all." SWISH, SWISH!_ Love is the best nutrition for a plant doll. _"In the mean time, why don't you try offering it this milk," he pushed over a small bottle with an exorbitant price tag. "Just to make sure its well nutured while it warms up to your sister."

Rukia sighed and laid out the cash necessary for the purchase. "The doll is doing well otherwise, so I don't think we'll be needing any more service." She shot a glare at the blond man.

"Indeed," another swish of the brush. "By the way, in case of death of the owner, we do offer trade-ins of used products. You can get cash instead, of course, however the value of second-hand goods is only . . . " He displayed the card.

"We won't be needing that."

"So you say." 

* * *

"Hisana . . . "

"It smiled at me, imouto-chan. I must have done something right." Hisana had woven her kenseikan through the doll's hair.

"But Oneesama, it went right back to-" The doll abruptly awoke and smiled at Rukia. Was the smile a little melancholic or was that just her?

Hisana returned the expression, but there was an edge to her eyes. Rukia had seen the same thing only twice before; the first when she had graduated the Academy with top marks, the second time when the elders had declared that she would be the 14th Head of the Kuchikis. "By the way, have you named him yet?" Rukia asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, I've named him Byakuya. He acts just like a cold arctic night." The doll reached out to take Rukia's hand. To her surprise, it was warm. 

* * *

"It's quite the mimic, isn't it?"

"Plant doll behavior depends on how they are raised."

"Byakuya acts as formal as the elders, practices my katas and even draws the same way I do."

"That's natural. I know of one plant doll that cut its hair like its owner and started telling fortunes with Tarot."

"What isn't natural is that I don't see anything from my sister there. And she spends the most time with it."

"Is she still giving it milk?"

"What does that have anything to do with it?"

"I'll take that as a no. Some people just have no affinity for plant dolls, no matter how much they cherish one."

"Then wouldn't the doll be wilting by now."

"If you would like to return the doll, I suggest you do so before it 'grows up'."

"You're impossible to talk to!" The door slammed behind her.

"Ah, well, I'm sure you won't need it. You did have instant rapport after all."

* * *

"Hisana!"

"Yes?"

"What have you done?"

"What do you mean?"

Rukia turned away from the plant doll, which was even taller than when they had bought it. "It's growing up! Have you been feeding it something other than milk?"

Hisana clenched her fists and teeth. "You know it won't drink milk from anyone other than you now!" The older sister couldn't stay angry for long; her rage left her weak. "You talk to it, it copies you, what else am I supposed to do? It seems to like spicy food, so I've been giving it curry. It is the only way I can get it to even interact with me. Otherwise it just goes to sleep."

"Hisana . . . "

"It doesn't matter. It will be yours soon." Hisana turned away. Rukia, realizing that this conversation was over, walked to the door to resume her duties. Just as she reached the door she heard Hisana whisper something. It was so soft, she didn't think her sister had meant her to hear it. "Just like everything else." 

* * *

The funeral was small, just her, the elders and . . . 

It was no surprise. Hisana had been a bedridden invalid for several months before her death and before that her tenure as acting Head of the Kuchikis had been so short, most people had just assumed Rukia had been appointed immediately after their mother's death. Hisana had had an isolated childhood and during her short tenure as an adult, she had been completely overshadowed by her more talented younger sister.

The day was cold, but bright and sunny. Rukia felt it should have been raining; if no person would mourn Hisana, the sky should at least give her that honor. Her sister had tried, even if she had never been suited for the role Hisana had been given, and she deserved more than a simple, undignified grave in the corner of the family plot. But Rukia felt that speaking up would be hypocritical, after all, she herself had been part of what made Hisana's life so horrible. It wasn't fair that she had become everything that Hisana was supposed to have been and inherited everything that the older sister was supposed to have had.

A warm hand touched her shoulder, and she looked up into cobalt eyes. The plant doll had matured. Byakuya was taller than anyone else there, and it was nearly impossible to tell that he was anything other than human. "Are you ready to leave?" he asked her.

Rukia nodded. But as she turned away from her sister's grave, she wondered if she would ever be able to forgive him for choosing her over Hisana?


	16. Waiting

Renji returned late from a mission and it surprised him to find the light still on his captain's office.

When he had first transfered to 6th Division, it had been a common occurence; a way for Byakuya to subtly chastise his subordinate and an excuse not to go home. However that had changed in recent years, now his captain only stayed late if there was no other option. It gave Renji mixed feelings: proud that Byakuya was finally beginning to trust him, and depressed at the implication that his best friend and his captain were growing closer.

Entering the office had given Renji another shock. Instead of mounds of papers stamped with 'URGENT!' and a cooling cup of coffee, Byakuya's desk was clear, with only a shallow cup and a dozen bottles of sake on it. Three of them were already empty and a fourth was only half-full. "Captain? You drink?"

Byakuya was silent. Another anomaly, his captain always answered when others talked to him. True, his answers tended to be either derogatory criticisms or sarcastic jokes, but he wasn't the type to let others have the last word.

"Captain, is something wrong?"

"..."

Renji swallowed nervously. "Did you have an argument with Rukia?"

That brought a flicker of emotion into Byakuya's eyes. "No."

"Is she hurt in any way?"

"No."

Renji lost what little patience he had. "Then why the fuck are you sitting on your ass drinking when you should be home with her!"

"Language Renji." The red-head flushed and dropped his eyes away. He hadn't meant to make his surrender so obvious. But he couldn't stand the thought that he had willingly given Rukia to this bastard a second time and for the second time he had been wrong. Renji couldn't stand the thought of failing his best friend again. "Rukia isn't home."

Renji thought for a while. "Mission?" That would explain some things. If Rukia was on a dangerous mission, he could get Byakuya's need to get smashed. Even before the story about Hisana, Byakuya had been concerned about his sister's safety; after what happened with Ichigo and Aizen and everything he would be even more so.

"No." The noble took a small swallow of sake. "She's on a date."

"Oh." Now he understood. Renji grabbed one of the full bottles and raised it. "Kanpai," he said.

Byakuya raised an eyebrow, but chinked his cup against the rim of the bottle, before drinking. Renji followed suit by chugging the bottle down.

There was nothing left to do but wait.


	17. The Date Part 2

"This was nice," said Rukia, as Hanatarou walked her back to the Kuchiki residence. "I've never been on a date before."

"Really?" he asked. "I would have thought you and Renji-san . . . "

"Nope," she shook her head. "I didn't really know that many people at the Academy. And Renji and I never really went on dates. Sometimes we'd play hooky and we messed around a lot, but we never actually went on a date."

He looped his arm through hers and grasped her hand. "So no one ever asked you out? Not even after you were adopted into the Kuchiki household?"

"Niisama," Rukia hesitated for a second. "I believe some guys did ask, but Niisama turned them all away. I'm not sure if he felt I wasn't good enough or if they were."

"I'm sorry I was such a poor first date then."

"What?" She looked over at him, where he was blushing in shame. "Nonsense, I really enjoyed myself. You payed for my meal, we got to see all our friends in Karakura and we even caught that movie that Inoue-san recommended. I don't know what could be better."

"The last time I took a girl out, it was expected that I would get her parents permission first, bring her flowers, take her to the most expensive restaurant in the area, and bring her somewhere fancy, like a play." The 4th Division member shrugged. "This seemed . . . cheap to me. You deserved better."

"I don't know. It seems a little old-fashioned."

Hanatarou laughed. "Well, as I recall, I'm about twice your age. To be honest, I haven't been on a date in fifty years."

She stared, caught off-guard. "Really? I would have thought you had plenty of women after you. Especially as a seated officer."

He sobered. "I do get plenty of offers, though not as much as the 8th Seat in our Division gets. But it just reminds me of how old I am in comparison to most of my colleagues. It's not a pleasant feeling."

They walked quietly for a while. As they reached the shadows of the sakura trees that surrounded the Kuchiki estate, Rukia finally broke the silence. "Hey, you know, there's something else that made this date really enjoyable."

"What?"

"You might think I'm shallow, but I really like the fact that you're close to my height." The 7th Seat just looked confused. "In my life I've been surrounded by people who tower over me. Renji, Ichigo, Niisama, Captain Ukitate, they're all at least 40 cm taller than me. I can talk to you without feeling as if I'm just a child. That's another first for me."

They had reached the gate. She asked, "So this is it?"

"Yes," he replied. Then remembering what she said, he leaned forward . . .

. . . only to nearly be impaled on Zabimaru.

"Did you have a nice evening together?" asked Byakuya, coming out from the shadows of the trees. Just beside the gate, Renji continued to point his zanpakuto at Hanatarou's chest. He leaned back and stepped away from Rukia.

"Yes, as a matter of fact we did, busybody." Rukia stated, glaring at Renji. She turned her gaze to her date and her eyes softened. "I'd love to do this again."

"I would too. Farewell." With that, the 4th Division member turned toward the dormitories, trying to ignore the jealous glares he felt burning into his back.


	18. The Hour Darkest Before Dawn

They've fallen back into their old habits.

Rukia gets up at the crack of dawn. She gets some early morning practice, then eats a quick breakfast and finally gets to the Thirteenth Division to get a head start on the paperwork. Two hours after she leaves, Byakuya gets up to have his breakfast. They spend the whole day at their divisions. Rukia comes home, eats, takes care of any business for the estate, then goes to sleep. Byakuya stays late doing paperwork, and doesn't come back until she's asleep. Then he stays up half the night, taking aimless walks around the gardens. Then they do it again the next day.

But Fate is cruel, as they'd both agree, and one day, when Rukia stepping out for an extra-early morning and Byakuya is coming in from an all-nighter, they meet. It's at a small side-door to the Kuchiki estate, something only the servants would use, and the day hasn't really started, all steel-blue sky with only the faintest hint of pink and red and gold at the east.

Byakuya's in rumpled, rain-damp clothes, his kenseikan is askew and there are deep circles under his eyes. Yesterday Genryuusai had called him into his office, to speak about promoting Rukia into an officer's seat. He'd argued as subtly as he could, but Genryuusai had handed down an ultimatum. Either Rukia would stand the next time the Thirteenth Division held an officer seating competition or she would be sent to the Covert Ops, where her shunpo and kidou spells would be most useful. Byakuya would never allow that, but he had still spent the night trying to assuage his conscience.

Rukia was dressed in a thin, white yukata, her zanpakuto belted to her waist and her feet bare. Last night had been a wet one and she decided that cleaning muddy feet would be easier than muddy shoes. She was up earlier than usual, eager to meet up with Matsumoto. They had been working out various matchmaking schemes and were putting into action one of the major plots today. She was too excited to stay in bed any longer.

They stood there for second, staring at each other. Then as Rukia was about to brush past him, Byakuya grabbed her arm. "I would be grateful if you would honor to eat breakfast with me."

Tension could be read in the lines of her back and for a moment he thought she was going to say no. "Of course, Niisama."

Breakfast is not a lavish affair. Toast and milk for Rukia, rice,eggs and coffee for Byakuya, some fruits for both. The first part is spent in awkward silence. Finally, they can stand it no more.

"How was-"

"I heard that-"

They stop. Rukia gestures that Byakuya should start. "Rukia, do you feel you are ready to become a seated officer."

She starts. "Yes! I-" _I've been ready for a long time._ But she doesn't want to hurt him. "Yes I am."

He stares out into nothing. "Very well then. The next time the Thirteenth Division has an opening you are permitted to apply for it. You will honor the Kuchiki name."

"Th-thank you, Niisama!"

It was his turn now. "Why were you up so early?"

"Oh, Rangiku and I . . . " she hesitated. "We were planning to go to Karakura today. I'm excited to see everyone again." He nodded. He had never been fond of the ryoka, never really gotten to know them the way that the other captains had. But they were Rukia's friends so he would tolerate them.

"How was your date with Hanatarou?" He cursed his wayward tongue.

"Oh, it was great. It's so nice to be able to look him in the eye without straining my neck." and she went on and on. It actually hurt him a little, hearing how much she had enjoyed herself. When she finally paused, he interjected, "You really like him, don't you?"

"Yes I do. I think, if you got to know him, you'd like him as well."

It seemed he couldn't stop himself. It was almost like that time before Shinso, but much worse. "You do realize, that he is below you."

Her eyes flashed. "He's a seated officer-"

"In the Fourth Division."

"A noble."

"Of a minor house."

"He tried to save me," and then she gasped and covered her mouth, knowing that she had gone too far. After battling the urge to leave, Byakuya picked up the flow of conversation again. "Have you spoken to Abarai about your choice?"

She dropped her hands, confusion replacing regret on her face. "No. Why would I?"

"No reason. He is your friend."

"That doesn't give him the right to decide my life for me."

"He loves you."

"What?"

He looked at her. _She never knew_ he thought to himself. "It is irrelevant."

They finished their meal and she got up to leave. Instead of going out as she had planned, she turned toward the house. "I will speak to Ukitate-taichou about what you have told me, the seating matches. I'm sure he will be delighted with the information."

"Rukia."

She turned back, cursing herself in her mind.

"It's not wrong."

She knew what he meant, but pretended otherwise. "What isn't?"

"What we did that night. We share no blood. It isn't incest."

"I know," she smiled sadly. "That wasn't the problem." Rukia turned away again.

"Then what is?"

She sighed but refused to look again, fearing she would lose her resolve. "Niisama, when you see me . . . do you see me or Hisana?"

He came up behind her, so close she could feel the heat radiate off his body. "I a woman far stronger than my wife was. Who likes the dawn and rabbits and sweet things rather than fragile flowers she can't touch. I see a woman capable of being either charming and elegant for a party, or tough and practical for a battle, and having no difficulty switching between the two. I see you, Rukia."

"But I don't. I look at you and I see my sister and all I can think of is the fact I'm sleeping with the man she loved. I'm not the one who is supposed to be in your bed Niisama. Hisana is." She jumped a little to hear him laugh harshly behind her. She had never heard him laugh before and she always imagined it would be a small, quiet chuckle. This was wild and angry and reminded her more of Kenpachi-taichou than the aristocratic head of the Kuchikis.

"Do you think your sister loved me?" At this she turned around and looked straight into his eyes. There was a lot of bitterness there. "She was grateful, but she didn't love me. I don't know if she even capable of loving anyone." He quieted a little. "Anyone other than you. And the first time I saw you I knew why."

"I'm sorry."

"It isn't your fault." He took a deep breath. "Rukia, I know what will be said, and I know it won't be easy. But won't you please give this a chance?"

She thought of how she had felt these past few weeks. How strange it had been to be avoiding him again. How lonely she was even when she had been on that date. And how envious she was of her friends, who knew what they wanted and weren't afraid to go after it. Then she imagined spending the rest of her life like this.

"Yes."


	19. Ultra Unholy Hearted Machine

Urahara no Sakaba was down a side alley, dimly-lit and quiet

Urahara no Sakaba was down a side alley, dimly-lit and quiet. Despite the first impression, this place was in no way dingy or low-class. Indeed, the only overtly suspicious part of the establishment was the landlord, a laughing, stubbled man with shadowy eyes. After all, a lot of money passed through this bar and the owner had clients to impress.

Not that every deal was completely legal . . .

"Is that all then? Drive off the Menos Grandes from Karakura? No extra details or complications you want to mention now?" Three people, small table in the center of the bar. Blocked off from three sides by plants and screens, but the conversation could be easily heard, forcing the participants to try to speak under the soft music. One man, the speaker, tall with dark hair and pale, grey eyes, and two women. One woman, slight, with indigo eyes sitting on the same side as the man, the opposite party, dark, with strong features.

"No, that's all. The only thing left to argue over is payment." The woman, really a girl, pulled her hat lower to shadow her eyes. She scribbled out a check then passed it over. The man looked it over then handed it back. "You would need at least 100 times that amount to purchase my services for this task."

"100 times-" the girl shut her mouth with a snap. "They said he was an asshole," she muttered under her breath.

"If you'd like a more affordable deleter, that one," he indicated an orange-haired teenager who was sulking at the bar. "-is known for doing pro bono work."

The girl twisted to look at the person. Then she whipped back to look at him. "You've got to be joking. You don't think I'd trust my _brother_ with something important, do you?" This time she wasn't even trying to keep her voice down. Her brother noticed and scowled at her.

" . . . " Pale eyes widened considerably. He took a closer look at his potential employer. "Now that you mention it, there is some resemblance . . . "

"If you'd like, I'll pay you 1000 times that amount." Someone else intruded into their conversation.

The three looked over. Standing there was a tall man, with brown hair and eyes, and square, wire-framed glasses. He was dressed in a black suit.

"Excuse me, sir," said the girl. "But we're not quite done here."

"Yes, we are." stated the grey-eyed man and got up.

"Look," she said, desperately. "Isn't there anyone else you could recommend?"

"Be nicer, Niisama." The last member of the trio hissed to the man. When it became clear that her companion was ignoring the other, she took matters into her own hands. "Do you see those two over there in the corner?" she asked, in a deep voice that belied her delicate frame. "The man in white with the blue crosses and the girl with bright hair? Those two aren't quite as good as we are, but almost and they'll be willing to work for that amount."

"Thanks," said the girl. She quickly made her way over to the indicated couple.

The two men had already moved to another table and started talking when she joined them. "Kuchiki Byakuya and his sister Rukia. Deleters. Rated SSS. Ex-officers of the Sixth and Thirteenth Divisions respectively."

Byakuya showed no surprise at the other's information. "And yourself?"

"Aizen Sousuke, Fifth Division."

"So what's the job?" asked Rukia.

"First, there's something I want to show you." He handed over a photograph.

"It's not my position to criticize the Court of Pure Souls," said Rukia. "But isn't that overkill?" The photograph showed a man, with bullet wounds everywhere and a large hole in his sternum, where a large caliber finally killed him. The remnants of some sort of bracing supported his jaw and a large number 10 was tattooed on his left shoulder.

"If we had used anything less, that man would still be walking around." The two siblings stared at him. "It's a drug called Divine Breath. It grants Shinigami the abilities of a Hollow. The appetites of a Hollow too." Byakuya's eye twitched and Rukia flinched. "I think you can see where I'm going with this."

"Arrancar."

"Do you know 'The Ultra Holy', the drug from a few years back?" Rukia flinched again.

Byakuya's eyes narrowed. "The one that caused Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease?"

"It's the same group. They-"

"We'll take the job."

Aizen looked surprised. "You don't want to know anything else? I have-"

"You have the coordinates of their base?" The military man nodded. Byakuya held out his hand. Aizen placed a disk in it.

"It's called Las Noches. It's in Hueco Mundo."

"We'll do our own research. Our sources are likely to be far more thorough then your own."

"Yess," Aizen quickly pulled out a check. "I promised to pay you 1000 times what that girl was offering, didn't I?"

"No, just ten times the amount is sufficient."

"Excuse me?"

Byakuya stood up. "We don't like drugs."

* * *

"Niisama, isn't it strange? I wonder why 5th Division came to us. They should have lots of options available, ones that are both legal and cheaper than us, so why bother with Erasers?"

"Rukia"

"Yes?"

"It isn't our place to question the government. We should just be grateful that we're getting this opportunity." They continued walking in silence. Then Byakuya halted so suddenly, Rukia ran into his back. "There," he said, gesturing to a white smudge just over the ridge. Rukia pulled out a pair of binoculars and focused on the tower. "Can you hit it from here?"

"Of course, Niisama!"

_"O Lord, mask of flesh and bone, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of man, truth and temperance, upon this sinless wall of dreams unleash but slightly the wrath of your claws! Hadou 63! Soren Sokatsui!"_ A blue ball of flame sped forward and incinerated the tower. The two deleters dashed forward, entering the factory before the flames had died down.

* * *

Deep in Las Noches, the sound of explosions rocked the inner rooms. "Espada Szayel, we have two intruders."

"Bring up an image of them." Two separate pictures formed. One was of Byakuya. Having stabbed one of his adversaries, he reanimated the body with a handful of metal shards, forcing it forward to attack the other guards. The other image showed Rukia, using kidou to quickly freeze then reheat portions of the supports of the factory, weakening them until they collapsed, while dodging various attacks. Pale pink eyes behind square frames narrowed in displeasure. "Zommari, is the 'Cracker' ready?"

"Yes, Espada."

"Very well. Let's go shatter these two."

* * *

"These things don't appear to have been killed by Senbonzakura." Rukia straightened up. "I hope he didn't use that technique again."

"Ah, I'm glad to find you alone." She looked towards the voice. Two men stood framed in the only doorway still standing. One was tall, dark and muscular. The second was thin and slight, with pink hair and glasses. The smaller one held onto a girl, with a syringe pointed at her neck. She wasn't in very good condition; she couldn't stand and the skin on the lower left side of her face was sliced off, showing her teeth and jaw. A six was tattooed on her right hip.

"Hostage taking by using an Espada? Why should I care?"

"Ex-Espada. I'm afraid she got cold feet and tried to escape. She's a little roughed up, but I haven't done anything serious to her yet. However that may change."

_"Hadou 4! Byakurai!"_ A bolt shot out of Rukia's fingertip and struck the pink-haired man on the shoulder. "You're a sick, sick man."

He pressed a hand to his wound. "Clearly, you're not worth negotiating with." He made a sharp gesture to the taller man, who had grabbed the girl when the other dropped her. "Let them take her. They have all ceased to interest me." The darker man pushed her forward. Rukia took a step back. This seemed a little off to her.

Before the girl could fall completely, Byakuya caught her. "Rukia, if you are going to rescue someone-" Writhing veins appeared all over the girl's body.

That's when it all came together. _"Hadou 1! Sho!"_

She was just barely in time. The kidou pushed the girl back, into the two retreating men. And then she exploded.

In the aftermath, it seemed very quiet. "Thank you, Rukia. I suppose I let my sentimentality to get the better of me again. Allow me to clean this up."

"Wait!" The pink-haired man had managed to survive the explosion, although his companion hadn't been as lucky. "Who hired you? Was it the Third Division? The Fifth? Or the Ninth? It must have been one of those!"

Byakuya stared down at him. "Does it matter?"

"Let me tell you something interesting. Do you know about the Ultra Holy? We made that in conjunction with Fifth Division."

"What?" Rukia couldn't believe her ears.

"The captain of Fifth Division, Aizen Sousuke, has been trying for years to create a warrior that exists with both the power of a Hollow and the skills of a Shinigami. Sometimes it happens naturally, but he was looking for a sure-fire way, a process he could replicate infinitely. But that is the one area of research that is strictly forbidden in the Court of Pure Souls. So he came to us.

The first drug we created was the 'Ultra Holy'. But it was too strong. It was so addictive that the user's body couldn't handle it. So we turned it over to the Fifth Division so that they could dispose of it.

Now, with the creation of the 'Divine Breath', Aizen no longer needs us; he can create his own Arrancar. He killed the intermediary and sent you to get rid of the evidence."

"Those divisions you named . . . "

"Only Third, Fifth and Ninth divisions are involved, although First Division probably knows more than it's telling. And of those divisions, only the captains are fully involved, although the Third and Fifth lieutenants may also know be part of the conspiracy. I'm sure the lieutenant of the Ninth division isn't part of this."

Rukia let out a choked sob. "I guess this explains why they asked us to take this job."

"You lost your wife to the 'Ultra Holy', right? I'm sorry about that." The Espada raised one hand.

_"Hadou 54! Haien!" _

Rukia watched the purple flames consume the Espada. "You don't believe him?"

"No, I do believe everything he said. I also paid attention to what he didn't say."

"The distribution of the 'Ultra Holy'?"

"Yes"

They walked out, stopping along the way to plant explosives. As they watched flames consume Las Noches, he broke the silence again. "Rukia"

"Yes?"

"It's not your fault."

She stayed silent. When she looked at him, it was if his face was carved of marble, as if nothing could touch him. She looked back at the flames. "It's not your fault either, Byakuya."

* * *

_Five years ago_

_"How long have you been using drugs? How long?" Byakuya grabbed his wife's arm and shook it violently. He knew he was leaving bruises, but he didn't care. Hisana was dying and he hadn't even known!_

_"I never stopped! You just don't get it!" Hisana wrenched herself away, then curled up in a ball, sobbing. She didn't cry for long though, soon the effort had her spitting up blood._

_"Did you know?" He whirled to look at his wife's sister. It wasn't fair of him to take out his anger and hurt on her, but she was the only one left._

_Rukia bowed her head, more to hide her tears than any fear of Byakuya. "I only found out a month ago. Before-I thought she had stopped! And I begged her to stop this time. I threw away her stash! I made the servants follow her when she went out! I even took away her money, but she sold her jewelry to buy more!"_

_"Do you know what it is called?"_

_A weak voice came from the bed. "It's a new one that's been making it's way through Rukongai. It's called 'Ultra Holy'."_


	20. Practical Jokers

Of course, it was all Renji's fault.

It started before the wedding. Byakuya, Rukia and Renji were in the 6th Division offices. Byakuya was finishing some last minute paperwork and making arrangements for Renji to have control of 6th Division while Byakuya and Rukia were on their honeymoon. Rukia had made some off-hand comment that had attracted the red-head's attention.

"Wait, are you still going to call him 'Niisama' after the two of you are married?" The 6th Division lieutenant looked a little green about the gills.

Rukia was about to exclaim, 'Of course not!' but then something changed her mind. Instead she smiled very sweetly and said, "But we were siblings before we fell in love. It would feel very strange if I called him just Byakuya."

Renji could have sworn she was sparkling. He stuttered and mumbled, then turned to his captain to back him up. "Um, you think this is a little weird, don't you sir?"

Byakuya merely gave him a condescending glance. "I deem it most appropriate."

Renji quickly excused himself. He never could tell if the two siblings were serious or joking.

* * *

"I suppose," said Hitsugay. "It was too much to expect that any Division, even the 6th, takes its duties completely seriously." Behind him, Matsumoto cheerfully toasted them with a bottle of sake.

* * *

"Well, that will make for a kinky honeymoon."

"Sir, what the Kuchikis choose to call each other in the privacy of their own home is none of your business. And could you please sign these forms ibefore/i you take a nap? The deadline for the Division's extra budget requests is today."

"But Nanao-chan, I'd love for you to call me Daddy while I-"

SMACK!

* * *

"So they're not really siblings though, right?"

"Right," Ikkaku was attempting to explain why so many people were freaking out about the Kuchikis recent behavior. "But she's calling him that even after she found out the truth so-"

"If they weren't getting married would any one care?"

"Well, no, I mean, she has been calling him that for fifty years. Everyone would understand it's just a habit."

"So what's different?"

"Because they _are_ getting married. It's like, if you were marrying . . ." The bald man cast about for an appropriate example. "Yachiru, would you still refer to her as your daughter?"

A single burning eye focused on the Third Seat. "One, Yachiru isn't my daughter. Two, you have a sick mind. Now get out of here."

Ikkaku got.

"Still," mused Kenpachi to himself. "It's nice to see that those stuck up prigs do have a sense of humor."

* * *

But to be fair, it was Byakuya who took it a step further.

He was sitting with Ukitate, Shigekuni Yamamoto-Genryusai and Sasakibe, arranging for Rukia to participate in the next 13th Division officer seating competitions. The joke was starting to get around, although plenty of people still twitched when Rukia talked about her wonderful _Niisama_.

So when Ukitate asked if Byakuya was sure he wanted to allow Rukia to take a seat, he was a little startled by his answer.

"Ah, excuse me, but could you repeat that?"

With a perfectly straight face, Byakuya replied, "I have full confidence that my darling _Imouto-chan_ will uphold the family honor perfectly."

Sasakibe went as green as Renji had, Yamamoto's eyebrow shot up like a cork out of a bottle of cheap sparkling wine and Ukitate tried to cover up his laughter with a coughing fit.

* * *

Naturally, the residents of Karakura were the least surprised. Ishida hmphed, Chad was . . . Chad, and Orihime squealed about how cute it was and how she wished her brother was still around so she could call him her husband.

And Ichigo?

"Yeah, that sounds like Rukia alright. And of course Byakuya would play along. He draws just like her, why wouldn't he have the same sense of humor?"


	21. Zanpakuto 1

If given a choice, Senbonzakura wouldn't spend any time with his fellow zanpakuto. In general he found them to be a gossipy, shallow bunch with little to say that interested him and not enough power to make up for their banality. There were few he respected and even fewer who he wanted to talk to. He did make it a point to introduce himself to the zanpakuto of any of his partner's acquaintances, but that didn't mean he iliked/i talking to them. (He remembered meeting Hyouinmaru. One of the oldest and most powerful zanpakuto and nearly unstoppable in battle- with the mind of a nosy mother-in-law. Sometimes he wondered if the weight of all those years had driven the ice dragon insane.)

Though to be fair, most of them didn't want to talk to him either. Younger zanpakuto hear about Senbonzakura's power and grace through their wielders; only to have their expectations shattered when they meet him. ("But your so sho-" had been Tobiume's reaction before Haineko had muffled the younger zanpakuto.) Most of his fellow plant-based zanpakuto preferred to pretend that he didn't exist.

Normally he didn't have a problem with that. He didn't concern himself with the opinions of the weak and foolish; among those who did matter his reputation was established firmly. Rather than waste time trying to converse, he preferred to spend it in contemplation or working with his partner.

But when he learned that Sode no Shirayuki was coming to visit him, he felt the first faintest tinges of unease.

* * *

Sode no Shirayuki was not the oldest nor the most powerful of the ice-based zanpakuto, but she was the most beautiful and possibly the most well-loved. Because of that, she had a sheltered life. She had never been allowed to leave the snow fields and had rarely met visitors from other places (dimensions? planes of existences?). Perhaps that explained her penchant for choosing partners from Rukongai. She lived life vicariously through their memories and experiences.

But when her partner became the sister of the Kuchiki head (and she wasn't talking about the adoption, which was only a piece of paper that meant nothing to a zanpakuto), she took it upon herself to visit Senbonzakura. It was only respectful that she pay a visit to the older and more powerful spirit. She did the same thing to Sogyo no Kotowari and Nejibana when her partner joined the Thirteenth Division.

(Okay, and maybe she was a little curious as to why Hyouinmaru had almost died laughing when she had recounted all the stories she had heard about Senbonzakura to him. She doesn't know why he was so amused, but she is grateful that he had asked Haineko to guide her. And what did he mean when he said, "I hope the old stick in the mud doesn't _bore_ you too much!")

In any case, this is the first time she had truly left the domain of the ice-zanpakuto. Haineko had thoughtfully brought her forest where most of the plant-based zanpakuto resided then pointed out the small valley where Senbonzakura dwelt. "I'll just wait over on that peak over there." said Haineko. "Plant and fire zanpakuto don't get along very well and Senbonzakura still bears a grudge from one of the pranks Hyouinmaru and I played on him."

Sode no Shirayuki nodded. "I see," she said, making a note to ask Hyouinmaru for more stories when she got back. Listening to his and Haineko's exploits was almost as good as doing those things herself. _Almost_.

When she entered the valley, the first thing she saw was the enormous cherry tree. It towered over her, completely shading the grass below. It was in full bloom, with petals just a shade darker than normal. She felt the awareness of the tree and realized that _this_ must be Senbonzakura.

She dropped into a deep bow then approached slowly. Placing her hand on the tree trunk, she tried to convey her feelings of awe and wonder. "Greetings, I am Sode no Shirayuki. Our partners have recently become siblings and I have come to pay my respects to you. I hope we can get along well together and I assure you that I will work to the best of my ability to support both of our partners." She hadn't expected an answer (Senbonzakura did have a reputation for being standoffish, quite a contrast to Hyouinmaru), so she was quite surprised to hear a voice respond to her.

"You don't have to be so formal; it's not like the tree is going to answer you." Frantically she looked left, right, then up, trying to find the speaker. Had she been so rude as to not address her statement to the real Senbonzakura?

"Lower."

She looked down to see a fat, red-eyed wild pig digging in the dirt.

* * *

His eyes weren't good for seeing much, but he could clearly pick out the her all white, slender form against the dark trunk of the tree. More importantly, he could hear the musical tones of her voice, feel bristles on his back prick with the cold she carried with her. She even smelt like snowfall, pure and crisp. It just made him even more grumpy, reminding him of what he was.

"Y-you're not," she swallowed. "This cherry tree isn't Senbonzakura?"

"That tree is as much a part of me as your sash is a part of you."

She knelt gracefully on the grass and said, "I'm very, very sorry for mistaking you."

"It's fine, plenty of others make the same mistake." And really it was fine. At least she hadn't mocked him for not living up to his reputation. It was tiring to have to keep teaching these youngsters the same old lessons.

"But still-"

"Do you mind moving?" he interrupted her. "There's a truffle under where your sitting and it should be just big enough for a meal. You can have half."

"Excuse me?" she stood up and leaned against his tree.

"It's just as you said. We will be working together from now on. So I'm trying to be a good host and provide you with a meal."

Sode no Shirayuki just stared.

* * *

"Is something wrong, Rukia? You just stopped in the middle of the incantation." Byakuya stopped his swing and raised his sword away from his sister's neck.

"I don't know." She frowned at the white blade. "Sode no Shirayuki just started laughing her head off for no reason."

In the back of his mind, Byakuya felt a familiar flush of embarrasment. "Damn it, haven't you learned how to make a good first impression yet?" he muttered.


	22. Legendary

Zabimaru knows what it means to be legendary.

He can see it in the other zanpakuto. It's the improbable, the impossible made real. Time made tangible, the sun given a voice. He sees it in the flames of Ryujin Jakka, the shadows trailing Zangetsu. The silence of Suzumushi, the beauty of Ruriiro Kujaku. Zabimaru knows what it takes to become a legend and knows very well that he has no chance of ever reaching that status.

But he's alright with that.

Well, he's alright with that _now_. There had been a time (such a very long time), when he had hated his status. When he had gazed at the indifferent stars above him and howled his resentment at them. When he had wandered through all their different worlds aching for a fight, thirsting to be known for something, anything. It didn't matter what, just as long as they all knew his _name_!

And then he met her.

She's a bit of an impossibility herself. Her beauty equaled that of Ruriiro Kujaku, her grace was unmatched. Sode no Shirayuki, dancing in the forests of ice that made up her world, like the moon given a human form. As untouchable as Ryujin Jakka, as mysterious as Zangetsu. Another legend he couldn't hope to match.

They hadn't really gotten off to a good start, and yes that was all his fault. He had jumped in, breaking off her dance, challenging her to a fight. Zabimaru had forgotten to even give her his name, so overpowering was his rage. All he wanted was to pull her down from her pedestal, grind her into the dirt like the rest of them.

The fact he had won the fight was what broke through to him. Instead of laughing, then destroying the monkey, he'd managed to catch her off guard enough that he got the first blow in, which knocked her flat. Okay, maybe he didn't really win the fight, because she got back up and half-froze him to death a second later, but that was only because he had been so startled that he had gotten a blow in, that he was momentarily paralyzed by shock. Then she flounced off and pretended that nothing had ever happened.

It went that way for quite a while. He never did get the drop on her again, but on the other hand she never crushed him the way all the others had. And when they actually started talking to each other, he found she was pretty personable too. A little arrogant, a little naive, very formal, but nice at the same time. Sode no Shirayuki loved hearing stories about his travels and for once, Zabimaru had found someone who actually looked forward to seeing him. So it was no surprise that they became friends.

It wasn't a _legendary_ friendship, not like the one between Katen Kyokotsu and Sogyo no Kotowari, which went back to when Soul Society was first formed, or Hyouinmaru and Haineko, which went back even further. It wasn't that it was just the two of them either, there was Nejibana and Hozukimaru and Tobiume. Yet at the same time, he had always felt there was something there; that she would always wait for him and he would always return to her.

Until one day she wasn't there.

It wasn't that she hadn't gone off before, visiting Nejibana or Hyouinmaru in their own realms. It wasn't until Haineko had told him that she had left the ice fields, actually out of her comfort zone to visit Senbonzakura that he began to feel uneasy. Sode no Shirayuki was the darling of the ice-based zanpakuto and almost never left, almost never was allowed to leave without some escort, either himself or Haineko. The fact that she was taking the time to regularly visit another zanpakuto . . .

It didn't help that it was Senbonzakura. He had met the boar during his wild period, and been thoroughly trounced. Not that Senbonzakura had been the only one that Zabimaru had aggravated, but he had been the only one to hold a grudge. The boar had no sense of humor at all. So the monkey wasn't sure why he was worried; as nice as she was, he doubted Sode no Shirayuki had enough patience to become friends with the pig.

But as he watched them, Sode no Shirayuki combing out her long black hair, while Senbonzakura brought her strange flowers and rocks to examine, he felt a twinge run down his spine, up through the snake that was his tail. And when she laughed and brushed a kiss on that rough head, the ember in his heart flared to life again.

He knew he was watching the beginning of something legendary.


	23. Iroha

Living with Rukia was a trial. He see her walking through the garden in one of Hisana's favorite kimonos or catch a glimpse of the ribbons that she would tame her wayward hair with and it was if his wife was alive again. The same impulse that had made him give her all of Hisana's things: clothes, jewels, ornaments, also tethered him to the estate. He spent more time at home, now that he was taicho of the 6th division, discreetly watching his adopted sister, than he had when his wife was still living and he had only been a fukutaicho.

But one night she came down to dinner and things had changed. Gone was the flowery, pastel kimono and gone was the carefully wound ribbon. Instead Rukia was wearing a simple indigo yukata and her hair had been cut short to fall raggedly just below her chin. "Is something wrong?" he blurted out, then inwardly cursed his impulsive tongue.

She gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Nothing is wrong, Niisama. Why do you ask?"

" . . . you changed your clothes." An inane answer, but the best he could come up with. Hopefully, his neutral face and tone would cover his confusion.

"Oh, that, I sent the maids away and chose this for myself." She looked down at her bare sleeves. "The kimonos they kept putting me in were beautiful, but I feel much more comfortable like this."

"And your hair?"

His sister smiled ruefully. "I'm not fond of long hair. It isn't practical on a battlefield." It isn't practical on the streets he heard underneath her statement.

"I see."

"If I may be so bold, how was your day, Niisama?"

That was the first conversation he had with his sister.

* * *

Byakuya liked to think that Hisana was happy with him, but he knew she was lonely when his duties called him away, which was often. So when he came back one afternoon and saw the same wistful look on Rukia's face, he immediately took steps. He already had Hisana's death on his hands, he would not let her sister pine away and die as well.

"Niisama what is it?"

"A kitten. I found it in the rain. I think it's an orphan." Actually, he had paid the taicho of the 12th Division to create the animal. His sister's health was too important to be left to the uncertain temperament of some mongrel from the streets.

"That's nice of you, to take it in. Are you going to keep it?"

"I'm not certain. Would you like to name it?" _That's it, take the bait_ he thought.

"No thank you. But if it needs a home, the fukutaicho of the 10th Division is looking for a pet." She walked away, leaving him to deal with the animal. The cat looked at him. He looked at the cat. The cat went for his face.

* * *

"Oooh isn't he cute, he looks just like my taicho!" Matsumoto snuggled the green eyed, white furred demon into her chest, and the kitten just purred and licked her chin. "But if you don't mind me asking, what happened to your face Kuchiki-taicho?"

"It was a Menos Grande." She shot a skeptical look at the bandages, but fortunately didn't inquire further.

"Aren't you the most adorable little thing! I think I'll call you Shiro-chan!" Byakuya swore he felt the temperature drop at least ten degrees. "By the way, how did you know I wanted a pet?"

"Oh, Rukia mentioned it. I'm a little surprised that she didn't want to keep it for herself."

"Well, not everyone's a cat person. But Rukia-chan's always doodling these odd little bu-" Byakuya tuned the blonde out. Hisana had definitely been a cat person and he regretted not having got her one while she was alive. But if Rukia didn't like cats, what type of pet should he get her? Fish?

A flash of red brought his thoughts back to the present. His newest officer, the one who transferred from the 11th Division, who's name Byakuya couldn't remember, was out training the fresh graduates. Come to think of it, that hair looked somewhat familiar . . . now he had it. That was Rukia's friend, the one from the Academy. He noted the rough handling of the recruits and inwardly winced at the language the officer was using to berate one particularly clumsy member.

Still, he was Rukia's friend . . . maybe she liked dogs.

* * *

"Here." Byakuya unceremoniously dropped a leash into the hand of the pink-wearing taicho of the 8th Division.

"Ah Byakuya-bo, so glad to see you again. And while I believe sake would be a much better gift, still, I appreciate any tokens of respect that you chose to bestow upon your elders. But what is it?"

"A dog." He turned and left without anymore words.

Shunsui looked at the dog. The dog looked at Shunsui. Nanao looked at the dog. Shunsui stopped looking at the dog and leered at his fukutaicho instead. "I suppose we should have just told him that Rukia likes bunnies, instead."

The woman adjusted her glasses. "Our 15th seat, Rinko, has previously expressed a fondness for dogs. You can deliver it to her when you sneak into the women's dormitory tonight."

"Ah, what would I do without my sweet Nanao-chan!"

"And please sign these sir, before the Chamber 46 reduces our budget _again!_"

* * *

_So Rukia doesn't like cats and she's allergic to dogs. So now what do I do?_ Byakuya's nightly ruminations had taken a distinctly pedestrian, but far less morbid turn. Faced with the challenge of finding a suitable pet for his sister, he had temporarily abandoned his usual self-recriminations. The head of the Kuchiki family was so deep in thought, he almost missed his sister sneaking out. Carefully hiding his reiatsu, he followed her until she reached the edge of the estate. There she set out some pieces of lettuce and carrot that she must have stolen from the kitchen. She waited a while until a white blob came out and began to feed. "There you are. Ooh, you're so white and fluffy, I could just eat you up!" He watched her snuggle the bunny, cooing and kissing it, before turning away.

At least he wouldn't have to go back to the 12th Division for a third time.

* * *

Hisana had always had the fragrance of camellias and roses about her. Camellias for the 6th Division, roses for her own tastes. Now that she was gone, he could never smell roses without remembering her long illness. When Rukia started wearing the same perfume, he again found himself drifting, holding his breath as if he could somehow stop time and suddenly she would be Hisana all over again. That heavy perfume invaded his sleep and all his dreams were about death and dying.

The change was as startling as when she had stopped wearing kimonos. One day the house had been filled with the heavy, gloomy perfume, the next had new scent, equally strong, but far more lively and sensual.

"I'm sorry, but we ran out of the old bottle, and I bought a new one while I was out. I hope you don't mind." The evening conversation gone from a rare occurrence to a daily habit.

"Not at all. But why did you choose a new scent, Rukia?"

She looked sheepish, then remembered her lessons. The fragile silhouette straightened and the pointed chin came up so that navy eyes could look into his gray ones. "I find the scent of roses morbid. Gardenias have much more pleasing connotations."

He almost smiled. "I agree."

* * *

Still, it wasn't until Rukia asked to become an officer that Byakuya finally separated the two women in his mind.

Hisana had not been a shinigami. To his family, she had been a servant in a lady's clothes; to the servants she had been a lady who couldn't manage the house. Hisana had always vacillated between the two extremes and the only time she could be herself was with him. And that time had grown less and less, between his increasing duties and her growing melancholia, until at last there had been nothing left of her.

Rukia's personality was much more forceful and adaptable than his wife's. She bent to the pressures of being the sister of the clan head, but continued to grow in her new form. She accepted what had been given her, but stamped it with her own personality. Rukia was not a hothouse debutante nor was she a mediocre peon.

And when Byakuya looked at her and realized that this terrible, wonderful, strange person who he had barely begun to know was asking for his permission to go off and die-there was only one thing he could do.


	24. Fugue

Arched back, looking up at the stars.

Overshadowed. One hand angles a delicate chin, the other dips to grasp thin white cloth. Cold gray eyes meet melancholy purple.

"Why did you want to meet out here?"

Pushed back against the wall, harsh sound of fabric tearing. Harsher fingers against pale skin, slender bones. "You look so beautiful in the moonligh. I don't want anyone else to see you like this."

"Why would it matter?"

"I don't want _anyone else_ to _see_ you like this!" Long fingers slide down a fragile neck.

Stifled gasp. "I don't want anyone to see me like this either." Violet eyes close.

"Who are you thinking of?" Lips follow the path the fingers traced before.

"You." Sharp eyebrows furrow, penciling a hair-thin line on an ivory brow.

A muffled cry of pain. Red lips pull away. "Liar!"

One hand drifts over where his heart would be in his chest. The other rises, seeking the moon beyond his shoulder. He traps it before she can even catch a glimmer of it's light.

* * *

Rukia likes to pretend.

She wants to be human. Wants to grow up normal, with weird friends who sew dolls' clothes for fun and want to be giant robots when they are adults. Wants to meet a rough boy with a heart of gold and fall in love.

Wants a brother. Someone to yell at, argue with and still be each other's best friends at the end of the day. Someone to compete with, someone who would be just as proud of her as she is of him.

A sister. Someone to tease and talk to. A big white wedding that she could laugh at and fuss over and cry as she watched someone with her face walk down the aisle to meet a handsome stranger who adored her.

She wants to be a Shinigami. She wants the grace of kidou, the comfort of another voice in her head. She wants to believe she's a protector, not just another predator in Las Noches.

Most of all she wants to be someone else, somewhere else. Not an Arrancar. Not a Numero in Las Noches. Not under the Sixth Espada, because he just wants to fuck her and couldn't care less that she was actually a useful Fraccion.

Doesn't want to be Rrukia Kuchikki, Fraccion of Sexta Espada Byakuyya Kuchikki.

_Take me away from here._


	25. Prison

Someone had once told her white was the color of hope.

Rukia knew better now.

White was potential, the infinite. Exactly, she would have said, the infinite nothing. Endless possibility, the infinite distance that dwindled to a single point. No matter what happened or where she turned, all she found was white.

At least in the darkness, she would have had hope of light. Here, nothing ever changed.

No hope of rescue either. Once before, she had handed herself over to save the person who would grow to return the favor. Not this time. No one would break those endless white walls, no one would stain (black and red and navy and orange) her immaculate prison.

Rukia looked down at her sleeve, then laughed. _Sode no Shirayuki, where are you?_ But no, not even her zanpakutou had been this pure, this empty. The yuki-onna had been made up of pastel shades, pink, blue and lavender, only white compared to the stained world she existed in. There was no room for her here; no matter how Rukia screamed, her sword could not respond.

Not that it mattered. The white simply swallowed her screams into its vast silence.

Only one other thing existed in this infinite space.

Her jailer.

* * *

"Rukia, are you alright?" Grey eyes conveyed the worry that Byakuya kept off his face.

"Niisama," she turned and smiled that diamond-bright smile at him. "I'm perfectly fine. And you shouldn't be here. It's bad luck if the groom sees the bride in her wedding gown before the wedding."

"I couldn't wait." he admitted, delighting in how the top layer of her kimonos blended nearly perfectly with her skin. "And you can't call me that after today."

"Of course," a gentle tilt of her head. "Byakuya-sama." Her eyes were a bit vague, but he dismissed it as nerves. Kami-sama knows, he had spent most of last night awake, tossing and turning in anticipation. He drew her in to an embrace. "You look so much like your sister."

"Thank you, Byakuya-sama. I shall strive to live up to her example."

He spared her one of his rare smiles, then leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. "I'm sure we'll be very happy."

The ceremony was less than an hour away, so he left her then, in that bright room where the sun reflected of the mirrors and made her shine like a pearl. He passed Renji, looking pale in his dark hakama and haori, and offered him a nod. His lieutenant returned the gesture, but without any grace or enthusiasm. Byakuya gave a quick glance at the other wedding guests, including the ryoka, who he had invited on Rukia's behalf. Yes, everything would go perfectly today.


	26. Dear diary

Entry AA

Dear diary,

Rukia has an assignment in the Human World and will be staying there over the next two weeks. She asked that I tell her everything that will occur during her absence, so I will be keeping a diary to remind me of important events.

Had meeting with 12th division captain today. I wasted three whole hours listening to him explain his new idea for enhancing baseline shinigami abilities, courtesy of using my division members as guinea pigs. Told him he could use Renji.

I think he may have poisoned the tea he served.

Entry BB

Dear diary,

Nearly fell down the steps of Sokyoku Hill. Pretty sure Renji pushed me, have no idea why, but he looked pretty disappointed when I caught myself.

Entry CC

Dear diary,

The Kuchiki pantry is apparently out of the white chocolate from the real world. I sternly reprimanded the cook. Unfortunately, this seems to have given her a severe case of hysterics, so now I have to make something for myself while all the servants are out comforting the incompetent. I wish Rukia had had time to teach me before she went to the Human World.

Entry DD

Dear diary,

Apparently I have done something to offend Zaraki, because every sentence he said today was an insult to either me, my clan or my late wife. Naturally nothing of importance got done in today's meeting.

She wasn't-

I didn't-

Alright, he may have a point.

Entry EE

Dear diary,

A maid smashed one of the vases in the hall, the green one that was a wedding present from Aunt Tomoe. Naturally, I fired her.

Where is Rukia? She always knew how to deal with these types of problems.

Entry FF

Dear diary,

I WOULD JUST LIKE TO STATE THAT WHAT UKITAKE SUGGESTED IS COMPLETELY IMPOSSIBLE!

I mean, Rukia would never do that. She would never violate the reputation of the Kuchiki by allowing herself to be associated with such trash. I'm sure she is conducting herself with the utmost propriety while she is in the Human World.

Besides, the ryoka is only a tenth her age.

And why was Zaraki paying off that old man anyway?

Entry GG

Dear diary,

I never realized how hard it can be to get through the day without someone to talk to at home.

Entry HH

Dear diary,

I have discovered something very disturbing about my lieutenant. I've always known Renji has had a soft spot for Rukia, but today has gone beyond the pale.

Today I caught him . . . _rifling through her underwear drawer_.

Needless to say, I had him packed off to the 12th division before sunset. But sterner measures must be taken. And I will have to speak to Rukia when she comes home. Clearly, she should no longer associate herself with that ruffian. Some other, more refined, friends will have to be found for her. Hinamori Momo acts like a perfect lady; she would be an appropriate companion.

Entry II

Dear diary,

I have temporarily re-admitted Renji to my division. He has begged for forgiveness, claiming it was a prank that Ikkaku had 'dared' him to do. Discreet inquiries to Yumichika-san have backed up his claims, so he is conditionally forgiven. However, he will spend every afternoon from now until Rukia gets back as Kurotsuchi's lab experiment. Then he will apologize to her and endure whatever punishment she feels is appropriate compensation for his crime.

He needs to realize that the most significant factor of pranking is not getting caught. I suppose either Rukia or I could give him tips, but Renji is so hopeless that I don't think any advice we give him will help.

Entry JJ

Dear diary,

I AM NOT GAY! WHO THE HELL SPREADS THESE RUMORS!

Entry KK

Dear diary,

For once, my lieutenant and I have found something to agree upon. Whoever started these rumors needs to be tracked down then disposed of. Hopefully before Rukia gets home. Because the situation here would drive her straight back to the Human World.

Entry LL

Dear diary,

I expected someone from the 11th division.

Instead it turned out to be Soifong. Where does she get these ideas? I did try to bring her to task for the rumors, but the rest of Kidou Corps took exception to my plans. So I will simply have to be subtle.

The 10th division lieutenant is surprisingly resourceful in these situations. She not only found an artist, but also a publisher and distributor for this literary work.

Dreams Seen in Smoke: A Tale of a Cat and a Shopkeeper will be hitting shelves by tomorrow. I'm sure Soifong will appreciate the lovely detailed scenes of passion that have been illustrated.

That or she'll take my face off.

Only a few more days until Rukia returns. This will be a good story to share with her over dinner.

Entry MM

Dear diary,

I went down to ask the staff to prepare some of Rukia's favorites, but they were already planning a big feast of some sort. Because we were short, I agreed to rehire the maid who broke the vase. Rukia can decide if she stays permanently,

Ukitake sent me note today. Something about unprofessional behavior. I can't imagine what it is for, but I guess I'll ask him tomorrow.

At least she's coming home today. For some reason, it makes me so relieved, I may even kiss her.


	27. Make a Wish

The first time they met, she had wanted to kiss him.

She had never thought herself a fangirl. Before Rukia had ever seen him, she had her life planned out thoroughly. Finish the Academy, enter the Gotai 13, rise to a comfortable position. Her skills would be sufficient to make her an officer, but she wasn't ambitious enough to shoot for Fukutaicho or a similar position. Get married to Renji and live out her life in (relative) comfort. She wouldn't ask for more than that.

But the first time she saw him, he took her breath away. It wasn't the face or the body or the hair or even the position. It was in his eyes, an chill that echoed within her own soul. She wanted to melt the ice behind those gray orbs, let it run free like spring water.

She'd try to put it away after the first meeting. She had her position, she had Renji, what more could she wish for? She went to the second meeting with the full intent of turning down the Kuchikis. But Rukia had never expected her friend (her lover) to throw her away like that. So instead she said yes. And thought she saw a touch of thaw come to those cold gray eyes.

It was hard, so very hard that first year. The servants did not respect her, the family was downright cruel. None of them ever raised a hand to her, but she could see the contempt in their indifferent eyes, hear the edge in every word they said. For Rukia, who had thought nothing could be worse than the deprivation of Rukongai, it was a shock to realize how much simple words could hurt. She spent many nights crying herself to sleep, muffling her sobs in the soft, luxurious pillows. Every morning she woke with shadows under her eyes, her face as pale as parchment. It was only the thought of that spring in Byakuya's eyes that kept her from running away.

Luckily the first year had been the hardest. Rukia began training with the Shibas, and with their help she began feeling more confident. She became more accustomed to her duties as 'Lady Kuchiki' and began pulling her weight in the unit. The servants began to respect her, the family started to treat her as a real member instead of an interloper. The only thing that didn't change was Byakuya's demeanor. If anything, he grew more aloof and distant from her.

It was Kaien and Miyako who finally told her the story, almost a decade after she had been adopted. Rukia had been shocked, frightened and a little angered. She had finally admitted that any change for the better she had seen in her brother had been a mistake on her part. And then to hear about his wife! She didn't know whether to be offended that she was just a replacement or flattered to think he may really have been attracted to her at one point.

Rukia crept into Byakuya's room that night. There she saw the picture of Hisana, the picture of the woman she was supposed to resemble. Kaien and Miyako had been right, the resemblance was quite uncanny. She turned to the bed, fully intending on demanding something from her adopted brother. An explanation, a release from duty-something! But when she saw his face, saw the tears that ran from his eyes in the moonlight she felt her heart soften. She thought back to that day when she had first seen him, when she had wanted to kiss him, wanted to comfort him. And she thought about what he had done for her, how her petty dreams of simply surviving had become the fertilizer for her greater ambitions. And she thought about her own past

She had given up wishing when she and Renji had left Rukongai. Her wishes hadn't saved her friends, so she had no right to use them for herself. But, just this one last time, she made another wish for another person. If only Byakuya could find peace and forgive himself for his wife's death, maybe she could do the same.

It would take many years before she realized that her wish was granted.


	28. The Sound of Silence

"Mommy!"

The human body is amazing, Byakuya thought, as he flash-stepped past various Sixth Division officers. Given various rambling monologues from Yamato or hours of complaints from Abarai, and he could easily ignore both. But one child, too out of breath from crying to really scream, calling for her mother, and he as fast as he is in battle. "Hush, now, little girl, I've got you." he knelt down to pick up the crying girl.

Only to be rebuffed. "No! I don't want you! I want Mommy!"

For a second, Byakuya thought his heart would stop beating. He struggled to keep a kind expression on his face. Judging from the way Abarai had flinched back, the aristocrat hadn't done a very good job. Never the less, he quickly put his arms around the dark haired girl and rubbed her back. "Sorry, Hisana, Mommy can't be here. Is it okay if Daddy helps you instead?"

Reddened, watery eyes continued to tear up, but the loud sobs began quieting down into soft hiccups. Byakuya doubted she had actually calmed down with his presence; more likely she had simply worn herself out with crying. "No, I want Mommy. Why can't she be here?"

He pulled back to examine his daughter more carefully. The cause of her distress was pretty obvious, a large, slow-bleed scrape up the side of her calf. He pulled a handkerchief from his robe, trying to clean the wound up a little. "We went over this already, Hisana. Mommy can't come back. Ever." He focused on the blood, so he wouldn't have to meet his daughter's grey eyes.

"But why!" She was still too tired to start screaming again, but he knew that didn't mean anything. "You promised! She promised! You said she'd be back in a week, after she helped Uncle 'Go!"

"I know. And Mommy tried to keep her promise. She tried really hard. But when she went to help Uncle 'Go, she got hurt. She was hurt so badly that she had to stay in the Human World so that she can heal."

Bleeding halted, if not healed, Hisana put her arms around her father's neck and allowed him to lift her up. "When she's better can she come back then?"

"Not for a very long time."

"Can I go to the Human World and see her?" At that he hesitated. While it was true that souls constantly shifted back and forth between the Spirit World and the Human World, he wasn't sure if he was ready to explain the differences to his still-young daughter. Rukia's soul would be processed back to the Living within the next fifty years, but how to tell Hisana that her mother wouldn't remember her? But he had to say something.

"Not until you're older. The passage between the Human and Spirit Worlds is very dangerous." The stress from earlier was definitely taking it's toll on the little girl and she was starting to drift off to sleep.

"Kay. But when I get big enough, we'll both go and bring her back, right Daddy?" Long-lashed eyes slipped shut, and he felt the last of the tension in her body disappear.

"Sure we will, little girl." He kissed her forehead, knowing she had already fallen asleep.

Abarai came up to him. "Do you want me to take her to the Fourth Division?" he asked.

"No, I'll bring her myself. She's had a bad time, and I want to be there when she wakes up." His vice nodded, but didn't leave.

"That was very insightful of you, sir."

"More than you expected, isn't that right?" He laughed, but the laugh was quite bitter. "I don't know how to handle this."

"Well, you seem to be doing a good job. After your parents-" he cut off the red-haired man sharply.

"I never knew my parents, Abarai. My father was gone before I was born, and my mother died giving birth to me. The only person I have ever lost is my wife." The vehemence drained out of the noble. "Twice, now." They were now making their way out of their division, towards the Fourth. "I never looked for anyone. Not my mother, not Hisana. What am I supposed to tell my daughter when she grows up? What if she actually finds her? Yes, that's your mother, but oops! I forgot to tell you that she wouldn't be the same person. Or do I keep her here in the Court of Pure Souls, just to make sure that she never finds out about that?"

The younger man just looked confused. "I don't know, sir. But I think you have a long time before you have to worry about it."

"I shouldn't have to. Rukia should still be here with us. I shouldn't have to tell Hisana her mother-" now he cut himself off. "I miss her, Renji."

And there was nothing Abarai could say about that.

* * *

When Hisana had died Byakuya had removed everything from their shared quarters. The rooms themselves had been rearranged, new furnishings bought to replace the old. Like a human cremation pyre, in place of the body that had dissolved into spirit particles, everything had burned. Her clothes, her combs, her paintings, everything had gone to ash. He had only regretted it after Rukia had come into his home and he realized he had nothing left of her sister for her. If it hadn't been for a few photos that his grandfather had thoughtfully hung on to, he would have had nothing to show her at all.

The Kuchiki heir had not done this out of spite. Rather, it was because everything Byakuya looked at had reminded him too much of her last, lingering illness. That had been the kimono she wore the day she collapsed. The glass she drank from when she took her medicine. The dresser table needed because she could no longer stand unaided in the morning. He hadn't wanted to remember Hisana that way. He wanted to remember as she had been when he fell in love with her, the beautiful geisha half-seen through the shadows and smoke. Exotic, enchanting, forbidden. Not faded and cachectic.

He can't bear to do the same to Rukia's possessions. The kimonos she wore still hang in their shared closet. Her last reports still clutter the desk. Her hairbrush, the scattered cosmetics, from the last party that they had attended the night before her last mission. He had teased her about that, asking if she wanted to take a turn being the messy one for once. The pillows still held her scent when he wakes in the mornings.

In the mornings, he deludes himself. Rukia always woke before he did; she has just stepped out for training, to eat breakfast, to turn in an emergency report, to check on Hisana. In the mornings, he can believe she is still there with him.

But late at night, it is the sound of silence that is the hardest to endure.


End file.
